Verdandi’s right hand flexed slowly, a tentative test to the pain, to see how much it had passed on if at all. She thought perhaps it had, but pain can be deceptive. Because if one freezes for long enough and the injury stings strong enough, the victim can grow temporarily numb, until the pain changes course as a result of any number of things – such as movement. Then it hurts anew.
As it were, the results of her test were of a slightly positive note. The throbbing, though still great, was starting to dim enough that she felt she could leave the alley, which she was thankful for. While the alley offered cover for her, it also could potentially offer cover for more dangerous things. Withholding any whimpering she may have been tempted to release, she stood from her curled up crouch against the wall.
Yes, it was dimming. Soon it would be an ignorable ache once again. She tiredly wobbled back into the streets, ignoring the questionable glances she received from curious passersby. It might have been purposefully, but she realized she was returning to the pharmacist – carefully returning to the pharmacists. She didn’t know if the fight would be over, and if it were she didn’t know who would turn out to be the victor, so for fear of being a demon’s dinner she’d have to tread carefully.
She approached the pharmacy from a distance, she could see it – but kept out of sight herself. There was a commotion, one she couldn’t very well miss no matter how distracting her right hand was. Mainly because the commotion there, one consisting of three separate groups: the demon hunters, the Black Knights, and what appeared to be Seraphs, were drawing a crowd of onlookers. It also looked like the demon hunters were getting taken away for questioning.
“Seriously? Again?” Despite being rather closely associated with the situation at hand, Verdandi made no attempt to be noticed – quite the opposite she renewed her effort to remain unseen. She had little desire to be unofficially arrested again, especially when the cause of such an arrest would be her willingness to assist the greater good as one might call it. Frowning, the beastgirl did try to view the happenings in the center of the accumulating crowd, and almost immediately she regretted that determination. It wasn’t an optimistic sight.
Though the other members of the troupe were well, the man she had wanted to aid in hopes he could aid her was unmoving she realized quite quickly, he may not have even been alive. Her ears fell in clear disappointment, and immediately she began issuing personal – albeit silent – reprimands. She knew better than to hope for the impossible.
She was on the verge of turning away, but just as she was to she saw another body. The body of the demon, no, Alisa. No longer did the girl bear the physical characteristics of the chameleon – though that was unsurprising – but also she lacked the very scent she had initially been tracking. The scent that Verdandi was far too familiar with, as it was one she carried. No longer did she bear the scent of contamination. But, what did that mean? She wanted to know, but she was too scared to find out. Such confliction rooted the beastgirl to the spot and locked her gaze on the former demon.
She was breathing, “She’s alive.”
Flinching at the sound of her own voice, Verdandi awoke from her reverie and quickly checked to be sure that no one heard her thinking aloud. Finding herself in the clear, her gaze turned towards Nero and widened.
He was breathing as well – though still not in any better shape (he still looked half dead to her.) But nonetheless a small glimmer of hope reshaped itself.
That being said that glimmer couldn’t counteract her terror and so she stayed well away from the commotion – in the shadows where she wouldn’t be seen but could still observe, and potentially follow. Though as she thought on her potential plan she realized it was likely to backfire. Either she’d get caught following or they’d go somewhere she simply couldn’t.
Well, that seemed to be a crossroads she’d have to deal with when it came. As it were, she had much confidence in her sneaking skills and had already set her cowardly course of following from far far far away. A skill allotted to her by her superior senses, specifically, her sense of smell and hearing (though her eyes at night were better than most as well, but that didn’t quite apply as of yet).
As it were, the results of her test were of a slightly positive note. The throbbing, though still great, was starting to dim enough that she felt she could leave the alley, which she was thankful for. While the alley offered cover for her, it also could potentially offer cover for more dangerous things. Withholding any whimpering she may have been tempted to release, she stood from her curled up crouch against the wall.
Yes, it was dimming. Soon it would be an ignorable ache once again. She tiredly wobbled back into the streets, ignoring the questionable glances she received from curious passersby. It might have been purposefully, but she realized she was returning to the pharmacist – carefully returning to the pharmacists. She didn’t know if the fight would be over, and if it were she didn’t know who would turn out to be the victor, so for fear of being a demon’s dinner she’d have to tread carefully.
She approached the pharmacy from a distance, she could see it – but kept out of sight herself. There was a commotion, one she couldn’t very well miss no matter how distracting her right hand was. Mainly because the commotion there, one consisting of three separate groups: the demon hunters, the Black Knights, and what appeared to be Seraphs, were drawing a crowd of onlookers. It also looked like the demon hunters were getting taken away for questioning.
“Seriously? Again?” Despite being rather closely associated with the situation at hand, Verdandi made no attempt to be noticed – quite the opposite she renewed her effort to remain unseen. She had little desire to be unofficially arrested again, especially when the cause of such an arrest would be her willingness to assist the greater good as one might call it. Frowning, the beastgirl did try to view the happenings in the center of the accumulating crowd, and almost immediately she regretted that determination. It wasn’t an optimistic sight.
Though the other members of the troupe were well, the man she had wanted to aid in hopes he could aid her was unmoving she realized quite quickly, he may not have even been alive. Her ears fell in clear disappointment, and immediately she began issuing personal – albeit silent – reprimands. She knew better than to hope for the impossible.
She was on the verge of turning away, but just as she was to she saw another body. The body of the demon, no, Alisa. No longer did the girl bear the physical characteristics of the chameleon – though that was unsurprising – but also she lacked the very scent she had initially been tracking. The scent that Verdandi was far too familiar with, as it was one she carried. No longer did she bear the scent of contamination. But, what did that mean? She wanted to know, but she was too scared to find out. Such confliction rooted the beastgirl to the spot and locked her gaze on the former demon.
She was breathing, “She’s alive.”
Flinching at the sound of her own voice, Verdandi awoke from her reverie and quickly checked to be sure that no one heard her thinking aloud. Finding herself in the clear, her gaze turned towards Nero and widened.
He was breathing as well – though still not in any better shape (he still looked half dead to her.) But nonetheless a small glimmer of hope reshaped itself.
That being said that glimmer couldn’t counteract her terror and so she stayed well away from the commotion – in the shadows where she wouldn’t be seen but could still observe, and potentially follow. Though as she thought on her potential plan she realized it was likely to backfire. Either she’d get caught following or they’d go somewhere she simply couldn’t.
Well, that seemed to be a crossroads she’d have to deal with when it came. As it were, she had much confidence in her sneaking skills and had already set her cowardly course of following from far far far away. A skill allotted to her by her superior senses, specifically, her sense of smell and hearing (though her eyes at night were better than most as well, but that didn’t quite apply as of yet).