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Hunting the Past

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The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors

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Character Portrait: Eilin
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#, as written by Kai
The fires could be spotted from miles away. Thick plumes of black, ashen smoke spiraled into the air to be met with the white fall of snow from the dark skies. It was the strong wind that carried the ash away. It scattered over the forest to the east, far enough away that it bothered none but the animals who prowled the wilderness.

By the following morning, nothing remained. The freshly fallen snow had slowly smothered the fires, though not before an entire village had raised to the ground. There was no movement. No cries. No life.

Stepping carefully over the ruins, a young woman picked her way through what was once a small hunting village. In her right hand she carried a long spear. The other was wrapped securely around a handle of a dark brown satchel, keeping it secured on her shoulder.

She had been here once before. The butcher had given her meat enough to last through a good part of her journey west. By the time her rations had run low, she had nearly caught up with the pack of demons she had been tracking.

“That is no place for a woman,” she recalled the butcher saying, even as he packed up the food for her journey and placed it all carefully into her satchel. “You'd do best to stay here. Or go back south if that takes your fancy. Demons are scarce in those parts, mind you.”

“Not scarce enough,” Eilin whispered the words that she had replied with. Her breath escaped with a white puff into the cold air around her. Her footsteps halted and she slowly knelt beside a crumbled wall of stone. This used to be his home. And next to it, the remains of the tavern where she had spent a night before continuing her journey.

Gone. They were all gone. Just like her own village all those years ago.

It was a rustling sound behind her that brought her out of her memories. Eilin stood abruptly, turning on the spot as she dropped her hand from her shoulder. The next moment, she had a throwing knife pulled from her belt, her eyes widening slightly as she searched the area for any sign of movement.

A dark, small shape tore across the snow not far away. With a flick of her arm, Eilin sent her blade hurtling toward it. It caught the creature in its side, sending it skidding sideways where it fell and lay still. Quickly, Eilin hurried toward it to take a look. Though, as she reached it, she grimaced slightly at the sight. A rat. A large rat with fur enough to make a pelt out of. These things had a tendency to disgust her.

Kneeling down beside it, Eilin pulled the knife from the small body, wiping the blood off with mild disgust. She wouldn't even be able to make a meal out of the creature. They were quite known for having infected meat. What a waste...

With a sigh, the woman rose to stand, turning on the spot to look around her. Whoever had attacked this village was still close. She had not been near enough to do anything about the attack, but she could track the demons that did this. Even if it was difficult to do with the fresh fallen snow. She would find them and they would pay with their own lives.

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Character Portrait: Eilin Character Portrait: Sverre
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Barely making a sound aside from muffled footsteps and a slight clunking of a broadsword strapped to his back, the darkly clad male followed without thought towards the fading scent of smoke. It didn't matter that he had noticed it the day before, it didn't matter that the snow had begun to fall anew to blanket the land in a fresh layer of white. It didn't matter that the fires had since died and been smothered by the elements. The smell was still fresh, the scent of charred wood, singed stone, and the pungent stench of seared, burned flesh strong in his nostrils and leading him onwards.

By the time he approached the remains of the humble village, the sun had risen to its highest position for the day, the noontime air still cold enough to summon pale breath from his lips and nose. Sverre paused near the torched remains of a small tailor, the humble building reduced to ash and cinders, barely any of its foundation left to mark its existence.

Among the incinerated remnants of the small village were a few still salvageable corpses. Sverre paused, looking at them with his lips pressed into a thin line. He admittedly felt somewhat akward and irked at his own stomach, but after a quick glance around, he decided he may as well have some food. It wasn't like he killed them after all. Letting precious meat go to waste was practically criminal, albeit certain aspects of his appetite were frowned upon by humans.

A large huff of breath escaped his lips as he crouched down besides a decently sized male body, charred and stiff in rigor mortis. Not the most appetizing, but it wasn't stale. Withdrawing a hunting knife with a dull hiss of metal on metal, the demon began to cut into the thickest part of the corpse's thigh before pulling away some flesh, drawing it to his lips.

In spite of himself, the demon had mixed feelings on eating from human flesh. IT gave him the most strength and energy, but he wasn't overtly cold towards the human race. He found them interesting enough, and even lived among them as best he could. Even so, he couldn't deny the natural instinct for devouring the living.

Swallowing the last of his first slab of meat, Sverre leaned close to cut away some more flesh when a sudden sound of footsteps caught his ears. The man froze, only his eyes moving as he scanned the ruined village for the disturbance.

Finally, he smelled it, a human. A living human was nearby. A survivor? Inwardly cursing, Sverre pulled himself away from his scavenged meal to hide himself. He hurried towards the blackened stone and wood of a small house, hiding behind a crumbled wall that had just enough of a corner left standing to offer a temporary shelter. Craning to look ever so slowly, Sverre watched as a tall, strong looking young woman made her way through the rubble, her eyes fierce and watchful. Interesting. He had an uncanny feeling she looked somehow familiar, but the demon quickly dismissed the notion. No, that human had died years ago.

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#, as written by Kai
It took a while for Eilin to tear herself away from the surrounding landscape. Despite the fresh snowfall, the death was fresh. She could see it as well as smell it. It was a sight she had encountered only once before in her life. Rarely did demons cause widespread destruction such as this, though they were certainly not above it. They were simply more likely to kill selectively and secretly in the night.

Slowly, the young woman took a step back from the ruins of the butcher's place. Another step followed it, and then a third before she finally turned to try and pull her thoughts together. The snow was fresh under foot, but that did not mean that she could not track any footsteps. Carefully, she leaned down and studied the ground in front of her for any tell-tale indents.

Non showed themselves to her.

Undeterred, Eilin rose and made her way silently forward. She carefully stepped around fallen stones and branches. Ducked under half-collapsed doorways. Eventually, she made enough progress from where she had started to kneel down again. This time she dug her spear into the hard soil, using it as support while she studied the ground around her.

Still, nothing suggested a trail that she could follow.

It was as Eilin was straightening up once more that she noticed it. Several feet away were depressions in the snow, already in the process of being buried under the fresh fall. Her eyes narrowing slightly, she cast a cautious glance around before directing her steps toward the marks.

Slowly and cautiously, she made her way toward the spot. With every two steps she took, a small round patch was left in the snow from the spear as well. And when she approached the curious spot, she drew to a stop as her gaze fell upon the charred remains of a body. No doubt, killed and burned in the fires of the previous night, it was indistinguishable and no doubt would never been identified properly.

Next to it, however, lay the object of Eilin's current interest. A deep depression in the snow, as if someone had recently sat there. And leading up to it... footsteps.

Eilin's gaze flickered upward, scanning the immediate area. To her knowledge, demons were best known to like moving about at night. Though it was not unheard of seeing them during the daytime. Still... There was a chance that whoever was near was simply a human. Perhaps a survivor of the attack and simply frightened.

Her posture remained straight, if not somewhat predatory as Eilin turned on the spot, looking about the area. There were only a select few places to hide and one where the footsteps lead to. Though despite seeing this, she played the fool's card and instead took a step back from the body.

“I know you are here! You have one chance to come out on your own!” she called to the area at large. Her tone of voice was strong, the cold untertones hidden within the accent of the people of the North. It was not natural for her to speak as such, though she knew she had better odds at getting a response from a frightened survivor this way. Her fingers tightened around the spear, almost itching to throw it at the nearest thing that moved. Though she knew she could not. What if it truly was a human survivor? They would need help. Help that was not available for miles each way.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Eilin Character Portrait: Sverre
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Sverre remained frozen in place, his breathing even and controlled as he waited and watched, albeit somewhat impatiently. The human was searching the ruined village with a purposeful calm uncommon in most. The woman's footsteps were silent only by human standards, the demon's ears picking up the sound as her boots touched and sank slightly into the fresh falling snow, the pace accentuated by her spear pushing through the snow and then the earth when she stopped. Closer this time.

He noted the way the human stared meaningfully at the ground as she crouched the second time, searching for tracks. A hunter, perhaps? He vaguely wondered if she was any good. As it seemed she was unaware of his presence, he slowly began to relax when she shifted, Sverre noting with a slight perk of interest that the woman caught sight of his interrupted meal and the indents int the snow. Well, no decent hunter would miss those kinds of tracks. Despite the carnage and the now sliced corpse, the woman didn't flinch in the slightest, 'Interesting...' he thought, only to be interrupted by a strong female voice. She made the first move, calling out to him and standing in the clear. Bold. She was a lone woman, how was she to know she wasn't announcing her presence to a band of thieves...or worse?

Remaining silent, Sverre debated the options in his mind. If he stayed here, she'd no doubt become agitated, and potentially hostile as she searched for him. She may become wary and unnerved, but somehow he doubted it. Besides, anyone who could track even halfway decently would eventually find him in his corner of the collapsed house. To show himself though, would she automatically assume foe and try to attack? Or would she try to be a good samaritan and offer him aid? Both thoughts were amusing in their own rights, and Sverre found himself grinning. 'Well well, this could be fun.' he thought, smirking even more as she gripped her spear with such force, ready to move at the slightest provocation.

Slowly standing, Sverre held up a hand in a peaceful greeting, a half smile on his face as he kept his eyes locked on the young woman. "No need to be so stiff m'lady. I am not opposed to meeting such a pretty thing like yourself." he remarked, already slipping into a charming tilt of the head. He was certainly guilty of being a fan of the ladies, never one to miss an opportunity to strike a conversation or even seduce any that caught his attention and this woman was certainly pleasing to look at if nothing else. His smooth voice was strong and carried with ease, the demon leaving his sword sheathed for now. Despite his calm demeanor, he kept a watchful eye on her spear, ready to move in an instant should she deem him a threat.

Setting

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#, as written by Kai
Eilin was aware of where her company sat hidden. The tracks leading away from the corpse were enough of an indication. The extent of her knowledge, however, remained a mystery. Even as she stood in the open, awaiting a response, her gaze was trained on a pile of rubble to the left of the real hiding spot. The only real indication that she knew more than she let on was the fact that she did not even as much as flinch when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

It was not a frightened survivor that appeared from amidst the rubble, however. Instead, a male slowly rose to greet her with the same certainty and smoothness as the most sought after bachelor of a city. Or a demon who had lived for far too long to fear anyone or anything. Eilin was no stranger to the type and she was quick to place the man in the latter category of the two possible options. Everything she had observed up until now pointed to the conclusion that he was not human.

"Looks can be deceiving," she replied, a warning edge in her tone of voice. Her gaze flickered over to him and only a second later her hand shot out. The blade she released was small and thin. The steel glinted in the sun as it flew toward the male, its trajectory aimed at his face. Without waiting for the weapon to hit its mark, Eilin took off after it, raising her spear at the ready to run him through with it. Quick and deadly. She knew that if she gave him even half a chance to react and escape the attack, he would most certainly take it.

Within moments, she was on him, swinging her weapon around. Her intent was not to stab him, although it would certainly provide a less painful death. Rather she swung the spear in a wide arc, her immediate aim to deliver a quick cut with the tip. The poison would do the rest for her. Even as she attacked, though, one thing was certain. She was not doing so out of fear or delusion. She had made a calculated conclusion about what this man was and made the first move in disposing of him quickly.

For all of her observations, however, she had yet to gain a good look at him. It didn't matter to her in the end. They all died the same.

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Character Portrait: Eilin Character Portrait: Sverre
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The dark haired male didn't move after 'introducing' his presence, her only reply earning a smirk. Deceiving huh? It was almost painfully ironic and amusing to him, her statement one of the biggest truths to him. 'Indeed, you have no idea just how pleasant such deceit can appear.' he thought wryly, only to catch the sudden movement of the woman as she chose the former of his assumptions of what she might do. Attack on sight. Not that he blamed her.

First was her dagger flung at his face, the demon moving his head aside just enough to avoid the point of the blade. Even dodging, a section of fabric on his collar was sliced, along with a small lock of hair being cut in half. 'She's fast' he thought with surprise, his eyes watching closely as his attacker charged him with her spear. He could practically smell the poison on the edge of her blade.

With a swiftness that was clearly beyond any normal human, the man drew his sword, bringing it up to block the spear at the last possible second during it's arc, a grin on his face as the spear's blade hovered just out of reach.

Now on the offensive, Sverre stepped forward, forcing his opponent back to avoid his broadsword as he moved to keep the weapon from reaching him. "Most impressive m'lady. I can tell already you are a skilled fighter, a strong opponent indeed."
Swinging his sword in a wide arc not unlike her with the spear, he backed her towards the crumbled wall of what seemed to once be a butcher shop. As soon as the woman aimed to attack him again, he intercepted the spear with his sword once more, this time whacking the flat of the blade at the point where her hands gripped the spear in an attempt to force her to drop the weapon.

"But I'm stronger."

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#, as written by Kai
Eilin had been hoping. Aiming for the attack to connect. Just one slice through his skin and she would have a quick victory. Yet it was not in the cards. As she swung her weapon around, the demon moved quickly to block the attack. That was one of the pesky issues that came in going toe to toe with a demon. They were stronger and faster than even the best of the humans and harbored powers that no mortal could hope to be born with. Eilin was no stranger to such tricks. As the blade connected with the spear, her glare shot toward her opponent. Strange as it was, in the back of her mind, she registered a familiarity of his features. Had she seen him before somewhere? Perhaps a wandering face in the midst of the masses.

She had very little time to dwell on it. No sooner had their weapons separated, steel sliding free of the dense wood, than the male switched to the offensive.

Eilin had a very narrow window of oportunity to dodge the attack that followed. As close as they were, she was forced to duck to avoid the blade, falling back a step. Then another.

Even though he was talking once more, Eilin's focus strayed very little. A third swing from him managed to back her toward the ruins of the butcher shop. With her options of movement narrowing to a dangerously low point, Eilin moved quickly. At his next strike, she ducked. Though instead of attempting to back away further, she tucked the body of her spear securely to herself and dropped to the ground, rolling straight under the demon's sword and over one of her shoulders. As soon as she was clear of him, she came back up, regaining her feet.

She wasted no time. Spinning around on the spot to face him once more, Eilin swung her spear around. He was fast, however. Too fast. His broad sword connected with her weapon before she could get a good pass at him, sliding down close to her hands. Eilin's grip tightened as she threw her weight against his, knowing that if she did not she would lose her main weapon much too quickly.

"But I'm stronger," the demon finished.

That infliction in his tone of voice. Where had she heard it before?

"You mistaken strength for victory," she replied, her teeth grit together from the strain of holding him off.

Eilin's gaze narrowed, her features twisting with the effort of the fight. For a moment she appeared as if she was losing her grip on the spear. The next, her weight shifted drastically. She twisted her weapon to let the demon's broad sword faulter in the sudden loss of oposition. A move designed to throw him temporarily off-balance. Yet even as she pulled her spear back, her body twisted inward and she moved in with a swift elbow to his ribs. Twisting her body around, she swung the spear in a horizontal arc, aiming the blunt end of it down at knee height.

He was correct in one observation. He was stronger than her. But so were the vast number of demons she had killed before this day. It was not strength that won those battles. It was quick thinking and tricky manuevering that had kept her alive all of these years. She used the same effort now than she had many times befoe. Tripping him from the back would send him down on the ground and make him an easy target to finish off. Eilin was prepared to return to the defensive, however, should the cards fall out of her favor once more.

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Sverre was pleasantly surprised to find his opponent was still standing, having ducked under him only to get right back up on her feet before he brought his sword down once more. Her retort only earned a delighted smirk, the demon enjoying himself immensely. He could tell she was struggling to keep up with him, not that he was surprised that it would be hard. He was impressed with her strength and her utter determination to stand against him. It kind of reminded him of a young friend he had had long ago.

The demon realized a second too late what strategy the woman was employing, falling forward as expected and feeling her elbow connect solidly with his ribcage. His sword landed in the snow where his feet had just been. With a grunt, Sverre found himself falling to the ground, twisting around just in time to land face up to see her ready to skewer him with her next movement.

"Not bad at all..."

Sverre sat up and reached out as she drew closer, dodging the point of her spear and grabbing onto her wrists, holding them in an iron clad grip. He grinned at her, admittedly impressed and excited to see a woman as skilled as this hunter.

"Why don't we call it a match sweetheart? I'd be a shame to kill such a skilled and able woman like yourself. Precious few of those around as it is." he said. As he looked up at the woman, he found himself marveling once more at the uncanny resemblance she had to that girl years ago.

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#, as written by Kai
Eilin wasted little time in following through with the attack. The point of the spear came down and for a moment she thought she had him. As he moved, however, he was able to deflect the weapon sideways. Instead, the sharp blade embedded into the snow beside his head and the next second he had her wrists in his grip, her form hovering over him with all of the tension and determination of a bristled wolf. If she were an animal, her fur would undoubtedly be standing on end, her teeth bared. As a mere human, however, all she could do was return his gaze with a glare that would burn clear through him if it held such power.

She made an attempt to rip her other wrist out of his grip, but it was to no avail. He had her captured. She swore silently to herself. She knew she should have put on her arm guards that morning. Her wrists were small and narrow naturally. Easy to grab and hold onto. With added padding of the arm guards, he would have had a much tougher time of it. However, it was too late for such things.

The demon, meanwhile, seemed loathe to keep silent for more than a minute. His proposal that followed caused her grip on the spear to tighten. Her first instinct was to throw a snide remark back at him. She didn't need her pride stroked. Not by the likes of him at any rate. Though his words suddenly froze her in place.

"Why don't we call it a match sweetheart?"

It was that sentence that finally placed the last piece of the puzzle into place in her mind. She may as well have not heard the rest.

~~~~~

"Why don't we call it a match sweetheart?"

An eight year old girl scrambled to her feet, dragging a thick branch of wood up with her as a laughing young man made his way over to her. She narrowed her eyes at his amusement, yet mirrored in her gaze was laughter and excitement. She couldn't hide it as well as she might have liked.

"Afraid you can't beat me?" she challenged, brandishing her make-shift sword in his direction. They had been sparring, if you could call it that, for over 2 hours now. Ever since her mother allowed her outside after they had their mid-day meal. Sverre - or older brother as she had come to think of him - had been enjoying the day when she had unceremoniously grabbed him and dragged him off into the forest in search of the perfect stick for her 'weapon'. Her last one had broken just the previous day.

Now, she looked up at him with all the guile of a tired but happy kid. Her black hair was disheveled, the curls knotted into something akin to a rat's nest. She had dust and dirt covering a good portion of her face and hands. Her clothes were caked with drying mud from the puddle she had fallen into about an hour previously. No doubt, her mother would reprimand her later, but just then she didn't care. She wanted to get a good victory in.

"Is that a challenge?" Sverre questioned, his eyes narrowed. Eilin knew she had him there. It was how she got him to do things he had no interest in doing. Simply by challenging him.

"Maybe," she shrugged her shoulders, grinning. "Unless you're too chicken that you'll lose."

Eilin turned around, intending to walk away with her own little victory. Perhaps leave him bemused. What she hadn't expected was for a pair of arms to grab her from behind. She yelped and dropped her 'sword' out of surprise as he swung her around and the next moment they were both falling. Sverre cushioned her from the ground as they collapsed in a mass. Eilin burst into laughter that she couldn't contain anymore as she twisted around, struggling to get free of him. But he had her held tight.


~~~~~~~~

Just as now, his grip held her pinned down.

"Sverre..." Eilin breathed out. It was barely a whisper and was not a question. Her gaze flickered over his features as if finally seeing him for the first time. There was recognition there. The eyes. The nose. The set of the jaw. Even that shaggy mop of hair. It was the same as in her memories of an old life. A life that was no longer her own. He looked... the same. Perhaps a little older. Not an adolescent growing into his adulthood but a young adult, fully grown.

For a short few seconds, surprise overtook her features. Then, the corners of her lips pulled upwards into an uncertain smile. Eilin didn't realize it but she had begun to relax slightly. She almost looked glad. Relieved to see him. She had thought him dead along with the others. Had he escaped the same as she had?

Then, all at once, realization hit her. Her thoughts shifted almost visibly and her smile faded. The relief was short-lived. The tension returned, her gaze hardening and her lips pursing into a scowl as the wheels in her mind ground to the inevitable conclusion. A demon... He had been a demon all along. Which meant-

Her train of thought was cut short as a whistling caught her attention. A small projectile flew at her from her right. Eilin moved her head just in time and it missed its mark. Only a second later did she realize that it was her own throwing knife that she had launched at Sverre minutes ago. She only took a moment to glance to the side before quickly juping into action, pushing her feet off the ground.

With the aid of her spear and Sverre's own hold on her, she somersaulted forward and over him, locking her hands into fists and wrenching her wrists free of the demon's hold. In part, she was staking the success of this on his own surprise. If he managed to not let go, chances were that she would suffer injuries from the sudden move. As soon as she had her hands free, however, she let go of the spear and landed into a roll. Swiftly, she released one of the knives that were hidden in her boots, grabbing the hilt and rising just in time to run into another demon.

How fast he had gotten there, she couldn't tell. The first thing that registered was a sharp blade, that he was holding, held at her neck-height. It was at the last minute that she managed to bend back enough to pass under the weapon, sliding to a stop behind him. She spun around, striking out with the knife. The demon turned and blocked to prevent the blade reaching his side. Yet the steel came away with blood from his arm. He swung at her with his sword, forcing her to duck under the attack.

Everything happened quickly. The demon struck at her, forcing her to fall back. Eilin made to slip by him once more, but he moved quicker. Next thing she knew, his free hand wrapped around her neck, his fingers closing harshly as he slammed her back against the crumbling wall of what was once a tavern. The impact knocked the breath out of her, causing her to drop the knife into the snow. Unlike Sverre's more amused nature, this demon was truly savage and dangerous, his black eyes glinting maliciously.

"Thought you could survive through the night, did you human?" he growled. In the back of her mind, Eilin registered his question to mean that he was a scout, sent by the pack of demons that attacked the village the night before. Most likely there to look for survivors. He glowered at her as she gave a cough, her breath intake restricted against his hand.

"My odds for survival are better than yours... demon," she got out right before another cough overtook her. His hand tightened and he laughed, towering over her. It wouldn't last long. Eilin knew this. She just needed to stay standing for another half a minute. Once the poison would take hold, he would forget all about her. For now, he remained oblivious, turning to Sverre and smirking at him as he sized him up once.

"Did you plan on finishing the job?" he asked, tilting his head toward her. His tone of voice suggested that he was mocking his skills and strength.

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Whatever reaction the demon was expecting from his opponent, her saying his name was clearly not it. Quirking a brow in unmistakable surprise, Sverre inadvertently loosened his grip slightly. Her slight smile was even more puzzling, the look stirring another sense of deja vu. He could swear he'd seen that smile before, but as before, the source had died quite some time ago. So why now was he seeing it in this woman? About to ask her how on earth she knew his name, the smile vanished, further deepening his puzzlement. What in the hell was going on? She had looked almost happy, and now the scowl was back, and he hadn't even said anything!

Sverre had little time to dwell on it, the woman deftly moving above and over him in a dodging maneuver. He didn't need to look to tell it was a demon that had attacked her, the scent and the speed which it moved enough of an indication. Sverre propped himself up on his elbows, frowning at the interruption of his fight. His human opponent seemed to be handling herself well, and he even smirked in triumph as she got a cut on the demon.

Alas, her victory was short lived, her neck being gripped mercilessly as the demon growled at her. 'Idiot doesn't even smell the poison...' Sverre realized, shaking his head in disgust. He was walking over even as the other demon turned to look at him, Sverre not even bothering to pick up his broadsword. Scooping up the fallen knife from the human, the dark haired male approached her attacker with an almost disgusted look on his face.

"I finish jobs that need finishing. Such as finishing self-absorbed fools like yourself." he said cooly, quickly jabbing upwards with the knife and plunging it through the limited space in between the ribs on the demon's right side. The knife went in to the hilt, earning a pained yowl. Sverre hoped it hit a lung.

"By the way, did no one teach you how to handle a lady?"

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#, as written by Kai
It had been a few months since a demon had been able to get a leg up on her. Eilin couldn't say she was particularly happy to break that streak. When one wrong move could end her life, there was no room for error. Seeing Sverre, however, had distracted her, throwing her off her game. And now, she found herself trying to draw a breath as she was held against the remains of the brick wall by a scout out of all things. Twenty seconds and it would be over.

Fifteen...

Ten...

Sverre's voice broke into her silent count-down. She was only vaguely aware of him picking up her knife. Though the next moment, the demon holding her gave a yowl. His grip loosened and he let her go, staggering backwards and away. With the sudden loss of support, Eilin fell, catching herself on one knee and both of her hands as she gasped in a deep breath. Her lungs burned from loss of oxygen, yet that breath felt wonderful. Coughing, she lifted a hand to her neck and looked up at Sverre's voice to figure out what was happening.

The demon was pulling her knife out of his side, his eyes burning with fury. He made to lunge at Sverre but missed by a ridiculously large margin. He stumbled, caught his footing, and shook his head as if to clear it.

"Nightshade," Eilin spoke quietly. Her voice felt somewhat hoarse, though there was a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched the demon's futility. There was no going back for him. Slowly, she pushed herself back up, ignoring the pain blooming across the back of her head. She could rest and recover later.

"Witch!" the demon growled. This time he honed in on her, though this attempt was as hopeless as the first. He stumbled, crashed into the wall beside Eilin, and only made to grab for her after she already had a chance to move out of the way. Eilin, for her part, managed to get clear of the wall rather quickly. Still catching her breath, she found her way around Sverre and to her spear, pulling it free from the ground. She spun the weapon around, aiming the blade toward the demon as he clawed at his own arm where the knife had sliced him first. As some of the skin came into view from under torn fabric, it revealed a growing black spot that was snaking its way through the creature's veins. Soon they appeared on his neck as he strained, tried to push himself off the wall, and this time fell in a heap on the ground. Eilin couldn't quite say she felt pity for him. If anything, she looked slightly disgusted. He struggled for another solid minute and finally fell still.

Following the demon's collapse, silence fell across the area. The snow had stopped for the moment and only a light wind swept through the desolate village. Eilin's breathing was still somewhat heavy, yet she was regaining control of it little by little. That was one down. She tore her gaze away from the still form, letting it flicker over to the side to catch sight of Sverre. Seeing him was still shocking and confusing to her all at once. She would have believed him to be a shape-shifter if it were not for his mannerisms and tone of voice. And he had just helped her... If she could label it as help, considering that she had already taken care of the danger for all intents and purposes.

Slowly, Eilin straightened up, returning the spear into a vertical position as she slammed it back into the ground. The sharp end of it sank through the snow and into the wet earth, securing the weapon. Her gaze had turned distrustful. For a moment it betrayed her intention. She moved from her spot suddenly, two quick steps closing the distance between them. The moment she was within arm's reach, she pulled one of her smaller knives on him, lunging at his throat with it. The blade did not cut through skin, however, as she stopped it just short. Instead, it rested against his neck, acting as a single threat. Her fingers tightened around the hilt, unwavering.

"Unless you have a wish to join him, you will answer some questions. Lie to me, and I will kill you," Eilin hissed. "Who is your pack and how close are they?" she listed off the first. Considering into the equation that Sverre had just killed the scout, she doubted they were from the same pack. Which meant that there were two near-by. It was dangerous enough to be near one pack of demons. This part of the land was about to become a war zone if two separate parties came too close to one another. It would not bode well for any human that happened to get in their way.

Even more importantly... Any pack that Sverre was a part of was likely to be the one directly responsible for the destruction of her own home all those years ago. She wasn't going to let any of them get away this time.

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Sverre rolled his eyes as the dying demon made a pathetic attempt to lunge at him, stepping aside with an almost bored expression. Even more pitiful, the demon cursed at the woman, trying to retaliate and fight off his impending demise. Soon enough, the scout lay dead, the remaining demon half tempted to kick at the ribs with a boot to check for any reaction. Not that he thought there was any chance in hell the demon was alive, more akin to an impulse or urge to kick a pebble around whilst walking.

"Nightshade huh? Powerful stuff..." he mused, letting out a low whistle. Even as he did so, he caught a glimpse of the human out of the corner of his eye as she stabbed her spear into the ground before charging at him. As she froze, so too did he, his hand up and ready to grab her wrist once more. She really was fast for a human.

Her hiss was almost amusing, but it was negated by her assumption he had a pack, and her threats to kill him when he had clearly done nothing wrong. Besides, how on earth did she know his name?! The final straw was that she kept bringing back memories of a long lost friend who had died...one he was unable to save. He growled right back at her.

"I have no pack, foolish woman." he snapped, brows furrowed as he looked at her. Snatching her wrist in case she did try to stab him, he squeezed it dangerously tight in a warning. "I think I should be the one asking you questions! How the hell do you know my name? Are you a magic wielder? Why are you trying to pick a fight with everyone you see? Got a death wish or something?" Even as he interrogated the human, he couldn't help but find himself marveling at how uncannily like his friend she looked.

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If she was surprised by Sverre's reaction, Eilin didn't show it. Any demon, when threatened, would snap. However, he was not just any demon. She had trusted him once. She had thought he died in the fires. She had been horribly mistaken. A part of her wasn't even certain whether she was more angry with him for what he had done or with herself for being so foolish in her younger years. If someone had realized what was happening, her life could have turned out very differently.

As stoic as her expression had become, pushing emotions to the dark corners of her mind, Eilin couldn't help but cringe slightly as he grabbed her wrist, squeezing it. It still felt tender from her earlier stunt and the adrenaline coursing through her system could only mask so much pain. She forced herself to not break eye contact, her gaze boring into his, almost as if daring him to do something. His tirade of questions only earned him a glare as she narrowed her eyes.

"I have a death wish," she gritted through her teeth, ignoring his first two demands entirely. "For your kind. So no more people have to suffer your twisted games." Eilin fell silent for a moment. One that didn't last very long. Suddenly, her glare broke to give way to a strangely amused smile. It was only part genuine, and likely caused by her own silent musings. "You get angry when we fight back," she observed. "Tougher to kill. Not crying in a corner, awaiting certain pain and death. Suddenly, you have to put in effort."

She had no idea where the taunts had even come from. It was almost as if she was naturally falling back into her old banter with Sverre. The very same techniques she used to tease him with relentlessly. She had to stop herself before she went any further. She scoffed, masking a moment of amusement. Only then did her smile falter again, nearly as quickly as it had appeared, her frown returning.

"We cannot always have what we want," she spoke, tilting her chin up slightly. It was an act of defiance. Even caught and held by a demon, she wasn't about to give into his questions without a fight.

Suddenly, she moved the hand that he still had a hold of, flicking it to the side and releasing the knife... Straight into her other, free, hand. Without waiting, she jerked forward, headbutting him before she pulled back and swiped at his head with the blade. There was something different about this attack, however. She aimed higher than she normally would, giving him an opportunity to duck under her arm. Meanwhile, she used the distraction to pull her other one free.

Spinning on the spot, she brought the knife around again, taking another swipe, this time lower. It was almost instantly followed by a kick to his side. The entire combination was delivered swiftly. The next moment, she sheathed the knife and twisted around, making a beeline for her spear. She tugged it out of the ground in passing, made it over to her bloody dagger, and swept that up as well. Then, to ensure her own continued safety, she slipped the dagger out of the way and in its place produced two small throwing knives.

Turning around, Eilin hurled them toward Sverre. It mattered not if they connected. They were purely for distraction. One which she used to duck behind a half-fallen house and from there she ran. She ran as if her life depended on it. As if the speed would grant her less pain. As if a wall of fire was rising up behind her. In truth, she had come to a realization that she simply could not kill Sverre. Even when she had the perfect opportunity for it, she did not take it. But neither could she reveal her identity to him and face the old memories they had shared. The only option left to her, suddenly, was escape. She could track him later. Find the pack. Kill them the first chance she had.

Before she knew what was happening, she had already reached the tree line of the forest and slipped stealthily into the shadowed landscape. She wasted no time finding a tree that she could climb with relative ease. From there, she took off along the branches, moving carefully yet quickly from one tree to another.

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As much as a strong woman impressed him, Sverre felt a growl rise in his throat at the human's words, her venomous hiss earning a snarl in response. She wanted them all dead huh? As if humans were any better, yet she thought to judge him? He was tempted to squeeze just a bit tighter, enough to start to cut off circulation. Thankfully for her, her wry smile puzzled him enough to interrupt his contemplation of the idea. In seconds, she was back to frowning again. Sverre grit his teeth, infuriated that he was actually becoming confused by a mere human, and secretly begging his subconscious to stop tormenting him with memories of his long lost friend. This woman's manner of speech even brought his friend to mind. He almost wanted to slap the woman for it.

As soon as he opened his mouth to retaliate for her blatant judgement of him and anything like him, the huntress released her knife only to catch it in her free hand, keeping him from seizing her again with a well placed headbutt. Sverre quickly ducked under her arm as she sliced her knife through the air at his head, cursing as he did so. Should've grabbed both wrists. He reached forward to grab her, only to be pushed off by a strong kick a mere second afterwards. Sverre got up in an instant, darting over and scooping up his broadsword to intercept her attacks just as his opponent ran for her spear.

In hot pursuit, Sverre once more ducked under a volley of knives aimed at his head. These ones weren't aimed carefully like the others, and he dodged with almost unimaginable ease. Was she tiring out now? Ready to engage her in a fight once more, he faltered at the sudden change in behavior. Instead of coming back towards him with the fury she had shown before, the human was running as fast as she possibly could. What in the hell was up with this human?!

"Running away now?!" Sverre shouted in disbelief, running after the woman for several minutes before just stopping, staring off in disbelief as she fled past the trees and disappeared. Sverre frowned, sheathing his sword. Fine, no sense in chasing after a coward. Someone who lost all will to fight was not worth persuing. And she had seemed so ready to fight him, so sure in her convictions. "Stupid woman...." Sverre muttered, shaking his head. Maybe she was crazy.

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#, as written by Kai
As much as Eilin wanted to get far away from the village, she knew that she wouldn't have the luxury. The scout's pack was still near-by and she had to find them. More so, she wasn't so quick to believe Sverre on his claim that he was alone. No demon hunted alone, that she knew of. No... His pack had to be the one that had attacked her homeland all those years ago. And she would find out the truth of it.

She didn't have to travel far. Sverre had given up the chase shortly before the forest line. By the time Eilin escaped the view of the valley behind her, she found herself surrounded by nothing more than the mangled bare trees and snow. Carefully swinging herself around one of the trunks, she caught her balance and turned to look behind her. Nothing but nature. Just the way she preferred it.

Her breathing heavy, she slowly sank down onto the large branch, putting her back against the trunk and closing her eyes. For a while, she simply sat like that, giving herself some time to recover from the sudden sprint. Only once she was breathing calmer and felt a little more clear-headed did she slide down into a more comfortable position, balancing herself and settling in.

Sverre... It had really been him. He had even looked confused at her recognition. Yet he had not known who she was. It was likely for the best. Eilin was still at a loss about what to really think. She was finding it difficult to believe that he was not human. He had lived around her people for almost a year and had never indicated that anything was wrong. How? Demons were vicious creatures. She had never met one that didn't want to rip her throat out. Then again, after her first encounter with them she had never met one without a weapon in her hand.

On the other hand, she was furious over the entire thing. She had mourned him the same as the others for many years. She thought that she had gotten past the trauma of her childhood. She had grown and learned and developed her own purpose in life. Yet seeing Sverre again...

Eilin shook her head, opening her eyes as she drew a steadying breath. Her thoughts were straying. She attempted to reel the emotions in. There was no sense in dwelling on the past. Not when it was suddenly so close to her.

~~~~~~~~~

Eilin remained hidden within the trees for the remainder of the day. She had enough rations for food left to last another couple of days. After that she would need to either visit a near-by village or go on the hunt for game. The latter option seemed smarter as she intended to find the demon packs as quickly as possible. By the following morning, though, she knew that she would need to tread carefully. Her wrists had taken quite a beating and were incredibly tender to the touch. Holding her spear was an exercise in its own right. She had no idea if she could fight with the weapon without dropping it. The bruise that developed on her neck didn't hurt as much, though it was quite a sight to behold. Shaped after the very hand that created it, it was dark and painful to look at. A slight cramp in her right leg also made walking a bit of a chore.

Despite the wounds, Eilin set out at the first light of morning to make her way back the way she had come. She was on alert for any movement, ready to strike first at any sign of life. She could not afford a real fight at the moment so she remained diligent and careful of her surroundings. As luck would have it, she did not run into any living creatures of human nature or otherwise. Though she was able to find the body of the fallen scout and for a while lingered on a decision. To retrace his steps or else follow Sverre's fresher prints wherever they may lead.

Eventually, the latter won out. Eilin simply could not let him slip away unnoticed. She tracked his movements slowly and carefully, well aware that he would be able to keep ahead of her but at the same time not in any hurry to face him once again. She did not want to come across him. She simply wanted his pack. She wanted answers. Yet much to her surprise and mild irritation, by nightfall of the third day, the tracks had taken her on a route that she least expected. Into another local village that was very much still in tact.

Every day life in a Northern village was a loud affair. People bartered on the streets for pieces of corn and bread. Butchers were busy closing shop around late evening visitors returning from the hunt. Drunken men stumbled down streets, cursing the taverns that dared decline their patronage. Women hurried through the streets, bundles of wood kept safe and dry under their arms. Thin plumes of white smoke rose from chimneys and fires throughout the area, livening the atmosphere of the wilderness beyond.

It was this type of crowded atmosphere that Eilin found herself in. She could not say that she was particularly thrilled by it, yet she knew that she could not avoid it. This was where Sverre's tracks had lead her. He had to be near-by somewhere. Her answers were finally close at hand.

Walking quickly down the street, the young woman took care to not draw attention to herself. Across the way, a man yelled for her to join him yet she ignored the ridiculous calls and moved on. Eventually, she made her way into the inn, ducking through the door and supporting it lightly until it closed behind her. It was much warmer inside. The fires crackled in the hearths. Patrons sat along the bar and at the tables that filled the entire first level of the building. It was a warm, cheery atmosphere that Eilin did not come across very often.

"What'll be, m'lady?!" a male voice called over the bar. Eilin turned her head, looking toward balding man that was watching her. As she turned her head, she could have sworn he caught sight of the fading bruise on her neck. His gaze flickered down briefly yet his expression remained as pleasant as ever even as he opted to not pay any attention to her injury.

"A room for the night," Eilin replied dryly. She tore her gaze away from the bar keeper, letting it scan the area. She did not recognize any of the faces so she turned back to the man and slowly made her way over to the bar.

"A silver talent for the finest room money can buy," the bar keeper boasted with a winning smile. "Two extra shillings gains you a full meal for the night and a mug of finest mead this side of the world."

Eillin did not crack the faintest of smiles at that. She didn't need to. Every inn and tavern in the north boasted of the greatest quality food and drink. She merely reached into her satchel, pulling out her bag of coins. She rifled through them, producing a talent. This, she deposited onto the bar top, sliding it over to the man with two fingers before releasing it into his care.

"All that you have you have promised. For a talent," she told him.

"M'lady, I do not bargain over price," the bar keeper replied. She noted a tone of apology within his voice.

"Neither do I. A talent is worth more than a room in the North. You ought to know that. If you ever travel outside of your borders," Eilin spoke. She gave him a quick glance over sizing him up. A part of her expected him to argue the point, yet he simply took the coin and inclined his head before bustling away to retrieve a room key along with a fresh hot meal. Eilin, meanwhile, turned and headed off to find herself a table as far way from the chatter as she could. Luckily, there was one such space open near one of the fireplaces. That was where she made her final stop, sinking down into a chair and relinquishing her spear to a wall near-by as she allowed herself to relax slightly. The last few days have been tiring for her yet she was far from letting them slow her down.

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For a while, Sverre simply gazed out in the distance, eyes fixed on where he last saw the human as she ran away and past the edge of naked trees into the forest. She truly was a perfect image of his long since deceased friend. It was unnerving to say the least, and her actions further confused the demon. She had known his name somehow, though he was sure they hadn't met before. He'd remember if he'd met a woman such as her. His brows furrowed in frustration as he fought the memories and melancholy that threatened to invade his subconscious. His friend was dead, and no look alike was going to change that!

Letting out an annoyed huff, Sverre finally lowered his sword, slipping it into the sheath with a soft hiss and click of metal. Lingering here wouldn't do him any good, and his appetite was gone for the time being. Allowing himself one last lingering glance at the line of trees at the forest's edge, Sverre finally turned away as a fresh sprinkling of snow began to make a sheet over the land. He needed a good ale after all of this. Maybe a lovely lady to help take his mind off of things.

-----
Sverre let out a sigh as he reached a lively village by nightfall, hesitating but a second before letting his feet take him inside the boundaries of the settlement. It was bustling with activity even at a late hour, the local inn boasting the highest amount of activity. Patrons came and went, some for a drink, others for lodging. Some were tossed out, their angry protests ignored.

While Sverre was perfectly capable of housing himself in the wilderness and avoiding humans, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed a warm bed, a good drink, and occasional company. Thus, he decided to indulge in a little comfort for the time being. Entering the inn, he swiftly walked up to the bar and wasted no time in acquiring a large mug of choice ale. Sipping it, he settled himself to relax when a commotion caught his attention. A certain patron had the inn's young waitress by the wrist, obviously harassing the uninterested young woman. Sverre sighed at the interruption of his alchohol, wondering why so many men had no manners.

"C'mon sweetie, what time you off? You don't wanna go home all alone do ya? Let me show you a good time." pressed the male, who smelled like a pipe combined with what Sverre could tell was him getting sick on ale over himself. Gross.

"That's no way to treat a lass now is it? Keep your meaty paws to yourself and learn some manners you buffoon." Sverre drawled, standing up and shoving himself into the situation, stabbing the table with a dagger. The girl pulled away with a gasp, scurrying backwards behind the strong looking man gratefully.

The patron however was scowling in anger, face going red at the insult as much as from the ale. "Mind yer own business! The hell are you huh pretty boy? Get lost before I make you regret comin in here."

"Right. Make me regret coming in here. Honestly, you're as stupid as you look. Go back to your ale and pass out in it why don't you?"

The man stood, raising a fist and letting out a indignant shout. "I'mma clobber you senseless!" He lunged at Sverre, only to fall with a thud on the ground. Blood pooled from a now-broken nose from a well aimed punch.

"Make sure you can follow through before picking a fight." retorted the demon. Shoving the now cursing and howling drunkard with his boot, Sverre returned to his ale, rolling his eyes.
--------------

Dirge chugged his third mug of the evening, beady eyes scanning the tavern for the girl who had gotten away from him several days ago when a lone figure by the hearth caught his eye. HE hadn't seen her around before, but she was definitely worth looking at. Strong features perhaps, but her body was well toned. Forgetting his earlier objective, he made his way towards the table with the dark-haired woman.

"Shame to drink all alone ain't it miss? Here, let me join ya, I'll be sure to show you a good time..."

"I thought I'd seen the last of your stupid face around here." Came a familiar drawl, Sverre plopping his hand on Eilin's shoulder as he glared in disgust at Dirge, the man whose nose he'd broken not three days prior.

Dirge was practically purple in rage. Humiliation, combined with being interrupted and insilted a second time added to his inner fear of the man as he fumed. "The hell you want this time?" he tried, only for Sverre to glare at him.

"Picking on my lady friend are you? Want me to break something else?" hissed the demon, his comment only further agitating the patron. Eyes bugging out, the scoundrel clenched and unclenched his fists.

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"Here y'are," a female voice broke Eilin out of her thoughts. She looked over just in time to see a young woman setting a pint of mead onto the table, a second mug in her hand ready for delivery to another patron. "Ven says the food will be out shortly," she informed Eilin, who nodded in return but said nothing in response. She expected the waitress to move on her way, though the girl stood there, eyeing her for a moment until Eilin arched a brow in question.

"I never seen Ven drop a price like that," she noted, tilting her head slightly to the side and propping her free hand against her hip. "What'd you tell him anyway?"

"That I'm new in these parts," Eilin replied, turning her head away to look at the fire. A silent signal that she preferred to have her solitude. The waitress did not move, however, and when Eilin glanced back she found the girl still watching her curiously. It was quite clear to her that the waitress was expecting a more exciting explanation. Girl gossip perhaps. When Eilin said nothing further, however, it became evident that this wasn't going to happen.

"Hmm... Well, enjoy," the waitress finally said with a shrug of her shoulders. She cast Eilin a smile and and went on her way. Left alone, Eilin turned to her drink, picking it up and studying the contents for a moment. In truth, she had no idea if she even wanted it. She preferred to keep her mind clear most of the time. However, she thought of Sverre being somewhere in the village and lifted the mug to take a swig of the drink. Perhaps tonight was as good as any to relax herself. If anything did go wrong, she could fight her way out as long a she didn't overindulge.

Her thoughts straying, Eilin found herself gazing into the near-by flames as she sipped on her drink. She was only afforded a few minutes of silent reflection. It was the fall of approaching footsteps and a figure coming into her line of sight that snapped her back to reality. She half expected the arrival of her supper. Instead, a gruff male voice spoke up and Eilin turned her head to look up at a man who seemed well on his way to getting drunk. His words didn't earn any immediate reaction from her. She briefly looked him over. Though before she had a chance to give a reply, a hand landed on her shoulder and an alarmingly familiar voice spoke up.

Underneath Sverre's hand, Eilin's muscles tensed, her mind highly alert and tuned into his sudden presence. It was with slow deliberation that she lowered her hand, setting the mug back down on the table silently even as the two men exchanged remarks. They knew each other. They did not like one another. The fact that the man in front of her was still alive was somewhat surprising.

“The lady can speak for herself,” she remarked while the man fumed. Her tone of voice was calm for the moment, though it carried a sharp edge to it. Her gaze was still trained on the man, watching his reaction. Her words seemed to have put some nerve back into him, it seemed, for he relaxed slightly as he fixated back on her, meeting her gaze and keeping it.

“Yeah. See. The lady can speak for herself,” he announced and gave a chuckle. Eilin sensed relief from him. As if he imagined he had won something. Her own expression didn't budge. “So what'll be darlin'?” he asked.

“Turn around and walk away,” Eilin replied simply. The man's face fell, his gaze flitting to Sverre momentarily. The brief victory snatched away quicker than he could fully appreciate it.

“Now look'eir -” he started, his words becoming slurred with the return of anger.

“Turn around....” Eilin cut in, not caring one bit for anything else he had to say. “... and walk away.”

“Or ye'll do what?” the man spat, all pretense gone as he slammed a hand down on the table. The sudden noise caused a few patrons near-by to look around, though Eilin remained unfazed.

“Put you out of your misery. If you are lucky,” she said. “Else, it will not be me you deal with.”

The implication was subtle, suggesting that she would let the two men fight it out. Of course she knew the outcome of such an altercation and truth be told she would not allow it to happen. She was simply fishing for a certain reaction from him. She got it a moment later as the man straightened up, glancing up at Sverre again. His anger turned into a sneer and he shook his head, attempting to pull his wits about him.

“Ain't worth it,” he spat. “Keep yer wench. I don wan'er.”

With one last look of hatred, he chucked his mug into the hearth. It shattered, the alcoholic contents sending the fire roaring up and cinders flying in all directions. Without a pause, the man turned and stormed off, shoving his way past startled looking patrons.

Eilin watched him go, a part of her mind intent on making sure he left the inn. The other was focused on Sverre's hand. If he so much as moved to follow the man out, she intended to stop him. Only when she felt it was safe did she move her shoulder, shaking Sverre's hand off as she leaned forward in her chair.

“Touch me again and you will miss your hand,” she hissed at him. She turned her head to the side, her gaze flickering up and over to see him looming over her. Where had he even come from? She had made sure that he was no where near when she had sat down. Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a warning look. “Call me your friend once more, and miss your tongue,” she added. Though she made no move to grab for any of her weapons yet, it was clear that she was on alert.

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Sverre gave no indication of noticing the woman's shoulder tense under his touch, keeping his gaze locked on the drunken prick he had chased out days ago. Even so, he didn't move an inch or add an ounce of pressure to his hold, merely sending the signal that touching her would result in a lot of pain for the drunkard. He dared to glance down slightly at her cool, steady assertion that she was capable of speaking for herself. 'Of course you are missy. Doesn't mean I shouldn't offer you an out though, does it?' Sverre thought as the idiot took her words as a positive sign to continue his harassment. What an imbecile. Anyone with half a brain could tell she was disgusted by his presence and her words were a warning that she wasn't happy with any of her current company.

Tempted to say as much, the demon never got the chance as the hunter woman dismissed her would-be drunken suitor without a bat of an eye, the drunkard in question back to his flustered and agitated state. Sverre almost wanted to snicker at the look on the buffoon's face as he was swiftly cut down. Only the slamming of his hand on the table earned a glare and tensed grip from the demon, a warning in his eyes. 'Paws to yourself you mangy dog' he thought in annoyance, once more prevented from making any comment or retaliation as the woman threatened the now annoyed patron. Poor sap had no idea how capable she was of following through with the threat. 'She'd have your head sewn to your ass before you even get a chance to piss yourself.' he thought wryly. HE was pleasantly surprised to hear what sounded like a suggestion to go and teach the fool a lesson should he not back off. Fortunately, the drunken idiot took his leave, not before making one last pathetic attempt to save face and ultimately looking like a jackass.

The demon shook his head and scowled as a mug of perfectly good ale was wasted, tossed to the fire so carelessly. He had little time to dwell on the mug's fate as he felt the woman move, shrugging his hand off before coolly hissing at him. Her threats earned an arch of the brow, only for his eyes to narrow slightly in annoyance. How sociable. Paying no mind to her threats, Sverre plopped himself in the seat opposite hers, draping his arm over the back of his seat as he looked her right in the eyes.

"Testy little missy aren't ya? Excuse me for caring to step in when a lady is being harassed by drunken bastards, even when she is perfectly capable of holding her own." Crossing a leg over his knee, Sverre frowned before pointing a finger at her. "You never answered me before. I think I deserve to know: How in the hell do you know my name? And why'd you suddenly run off for no reason? C'mon, I ain't leaving till you give me somethin." Not expecting this to be a quick and easy affair, Sverre motioned for some drinks to be brought over.

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#, as written by Kai
Lifting her head slightly, Eilin watched as Sverre made his way around the table and deposited himself into a chair. His comment only earned him a frown from her, eyes narrowing slightly. What game was he trying to play? A demon helping people. Perhaps as some twisted prelude to burning down another village. She saw no sense in it and, quite honestly, didn't understand the implications. Leaning forward in her chair, she returned his gaze steadily and held it.

“Coming from a demon, that means nothing,” she told him icily. As he continued to talk, she let herself lean back again, resting against the back of the chair. As he questioned her on her knowledge of him, however, she couldn't help but break eye contact. Her attention turned to the hearth even as he signaled the bar keep for a drink. Idly, she fingered her own mug, uncertain if she felt like drinking anymore. A part of her wanted to get up and walk away. The other, bigger, part wanted answers. The truth of what happened. Yet she wasn't going to give up her own identity so easily, stubbornness prevailing over her past even now.

Eventually, she did move to lift the mug, taking a drink from it before setting it back down on the table. “People talk,” she finally said, her gaze fixed on the mug. Her voice softened a notch into the most conversational tone she had used with him thus far. “A man, noble enough to stand up for a woman's honor even when it means risking his life.” The corners of her lips turned upward into a mocking smile and she sneered slightly as her gaze flickered up to him again.

“If only they knew the truth of it. The man is a demon. There is no help for them. What do you suppose the people here would do if they were to find out what you are?” she asked him, tilting her head slightly. Bits of free strands of hair fell forward and over her shoulder. She gave him only a momentary look of question before continuing.

“Your tracks are the only ones that arrived in this village. Imagine... No pack in sight. I wonder how far ahead of them you really are. A scout perhaps, staking out territory for your kind to raise to the ground at a later time? Yet you were not looking for survivors three days ago. So perhaps you are an exile of your own race. Wouldn't that be a story to tell?”

Eilin paused just when the waitress made her way over with a generous mug of ale for Sverre. “It is on the house,” she told him with a smile, setting it down on the table. She gave him no chance to protest before she walked off. Eilin's eyes narrowed slightly at this. The girl was a fool. The same sort of fool that Eilin had been at one point in time.

“You may know how to lie and cheat your way into the hearts and beds of women, Sverre, but I know the truth of it. Lie to me and you will wish I had killed you back in that village. What are you really here for?” she asked, effectively setting his own questions aside. As far as she was concerned, he had no need to know who she was. At least, not yet.

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"I'm not a pure blood. Three fourths demon, one quarter human to be exact. If you're going to despise me for what I am, at least have your facts straight." retorted the demon with a frown, reaching for his mug of ale. Sverre took a long swig, finishing the first mug with ease, a look akin to dismay in his eyes as he regarded the recently filled glass. It lasted only a few seconds before his cool stormy grey eyes returned to the woman in front of him, his brows furrowed as she all but sneered at him. He had half a mind to call her out for being rude for no good reason. Somehow he managed to keep his composure, folding his arms over his chest as the human goaded him. Goading, threatening, prodding. It was quite irksome to say the least.

Before he could combat the woman's incorrect and audacious assumptions, the serving girl from several days ago interrupted with a very welcome replacement mug of ale. As he reached for his pouch of coins, the smiling female announced it was free of charge- -much to his delight. Smiling right back at the serving girl, Sverre gave her a little nod of appreciation before returning his attention to the hunter in front of him. "That was generous of her." he mused aloud, raising his mug as if for a toast before taking a long, satisfied swig. Placing the mug with a soft thunk on the table, he all but scowled at the huntress across from him.

"What they'd do, is they either would want proof, or they might chase me out. Or maybe they'll start to rethink some of their preconceived notions. Who knows. As far as packs go, I don't have one, as I said before. Are you difficult on purpose, or just not paying attention to anything I say? Quite vexing indeed. A strong woman you may be, but that tongue of yours is so sour for no reason at all." the male idly drummed his fingertip against the table and then the side of his glass as he held the handle, eyes appraising the woman's posture. He had an almost imperceptible twitch in the corner of his eye, the woman's presumptuous words grating on him more than he'd like to admit, and his name once more on her lips. It was made worse by the incessant thoughts of her physical appearance, cursing how much she resembled his long dead friend. Sverre nearly ground his teeth in frustration.

Her threats didn't even earn an arch of a brow, or a single falter in his body language. He looked almost bored with the harsh warning, letting it pass over him as if unheard. He simply frowned, pointing an accusing finger her direction. "Such words might work if I hadn't heard them before, especially since you've been threatening me since you first saw me. But enough of this beating around the bush. I'm not saying anything until you explain how in the hell you know me. Even if you've heard my name by some chance, how likely would you know I am the one who goes with that name? Spill it, you're hiding something, and I damn well deserve to know why you presume to know me so well. Talk missy." he demanded, not once raising his voice. Despite keeping his voice level, the demon's eyes were impatient and annoyed, glaring at the dark haired beauty before him.

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#, as written by Kai
“I never claimed to know you,” Eilin bit back. She had known a human. She had never expected him to be anything other than human. The demon sitting across from her was a stranger. An irritatingly familiar stranger that would likely try to finish what he started all those years ago if he knew just who she was.

The glare that Eilin fixed him with was broken far too quickly. Moments after Sverre had fallen silent, the waitress was back. This time she was setting a plate full of food on the table. “Here we are, then. A hot meal, just as promised. Anything else I can get for you two?” she spoke, evidently missing the tension around her.

“No,” Eilin replied, her gaze still fixed on Sverre evenly. “I don't believe we will be staying long.”

She sensed hesitation, though after a moment the waitress simply nodded her head. “Shout if you need anything,” she told them before turning and heading off to another table that was surrounded by rowdy yet happy drunks.

Eilin waited just long enough for the woman to get clear of hearing range before leaning forward in her seat. Slowly, almost deliberately, she propped her elbows on the table, leaning on her arms as she regarded the male in front of her.

“I do not know who you are. Never did,” she continued as if there had been no interruption. Her tone of voice dropped in volume yet remained strong, a note of warning hidden within. Her eyes, however, held such fury that it was a wonder she had not yet attacked. “What makes you so sure that you deserve anything from me?"

For the moment she remained motionless, silently daring him to try and smooth-talk some facts from her. Her appetite gone, she didn't even glance toward the food that had been brought. "What are you really here for?" she repeated her own question.

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Sverre nearly scoffed as she argued back, about to point out she obviously was inferring she knew him by accusing him of all sorts of nonsense. And she knew his name. Last he checked, it wasn't a common one.

The interruption by the serving girl was almost amusing, cutting off his enemy before she could snap back at him, the plate of hot fresh food a welcome sight. "Thanks sweetheart. Looks good." the demon commented to her retreating form, wasting no time in spearing a potato with his fork and bringing it to his lips. He barely glanced up as the woman all but leaned across the table to glare at him, her words only convincing him she knew him a lot more than he knew. It was unnerving to say the least. And how in the hell could she know him, he'd surely remember a woman like her. It was far more frustrating than he cared to admit.

Her questioning wasn't even acknowledged for a moment, Sverre biting into another welcome fork full of food, looking quite content. He finally spared the huntress a look, shaking his head. Clearly she was as stubborn as a mule...like him. "I shouldn't answer you at all. You've been quite rude. I'd say I'm far more deserving of answers than you little missy. You still haven't explained how you know my name." Sverre continued to eat even as the woman was seething in silent rage across from him, her eyes clearly livid. Allowing himself two more bites, Sverre swallowed them down before speaking again. "I'm here to eat and sleep in a nice warm bed. Maybe catch up on local gossip. Why else would I be in an inn?"

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#, as written by Kai
Eilin barely moved a muscle as Sverre took the plate and began to eat. His casual demeanor only caused her to narrow her eyes slightly. His conviction that he deserved anything from her only grated on her nerves.

In the silence that followed Sverre's words, Eilin suddenly shifted in her seat. Her hand moved and she flung out her arm. The next moment there was a loud thud as she slammed the blade of one of her knives into the table. It missed Sverre's resting hand by centimeters.

Slowly, Eilin rose from her seat, leaning against the hilt of the blade.

“You will find that I have not been rude enough. Demon,” she grit out. Her anger was getting the best of her. It was clear that she was still doing her best to remain in control, albeit beginning to falter in her attempts. “Now, I know that the scout I killed three suns ago was not an ally of yours. Therefore, the pack that follows in the wake of his death is not your ally either. However, alliances can be created and broken quite often in the demon world, wouldn't you agree? I may not understand your reasoning for coming to this village, but I do know this. Should the pack come within striking distance of the gate, any blood shed will be on your hands.”

Eilin paused, glaring at Sverre before she silently shifted her weight. Tugging on the knife, she pulled the blade free of the wooden table, flipping the blade around in her hand. Her gaze flickered to the plate of half-eaten food briefly before she fixed it on the man before her once more.

“And that was my supper,” she added to him before straightening up. Not that she planned on taking it from him. She was far from hungry at the moment and knew that trading quips back and forth would get them no where. Who was she kidding? She couldn't kill him. Not until she had her answers. Yet she likely would not get such answers from him until she revealed her own identity. An option that she was not appealing to her at that particular moment.

Instead of waiting for an answer, Eilin snatched her spear from the wall and turned, storming away from the table and through the crowd of patrons that were gathered within the tavern. She would deal with Sverre when the time came. For now she dearly hoped that his obvious curiosity would not stand in her way.

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Despite the nearby gasps following the fierce thud of her blade embedding itself into the wood, Sverre made no move to pull away. He didn't even flinch, the only reaction visible was a deepening frown and a pause mid-bite. Lowering the fork back to the plate, he gazed coolly at the woman as she once more snapped at him and treated him like a criminal. It was getting frustrating, and more and more restraint had to be summoned to maintain composure around the human. Added on was his frustration that such a human was actually puzzling to him, not to mention far too similar looking to a human he actually liked.

As soon as the woman withdrew her knife, Sverre growled in annoyance. "Do you always accuse people of things with no basis or proof? I have done nothing wrong, and you try to tell me I'm somehow going to be responsible for a village?" He took another bite of food, quirking a brow as his anger was interrupted by surprise. Her food? He had somehow assumed the serving girl was being very nice and treating him. Feeling inwardly stupid and aghast at his mistake, the demon dared to look apologetic.
"I'll get ye another one then...." he tried, only to see the woman storm off in a huff.

"Oy! Running away again?!" Sverre exclaimed, forgetting the more than half finished plate as he stood to stop the huntress. With half a mind to chase after her, the demon opted not to and let out a huff, dropping back in his chair. As curious and frustrated as he was, he didn't particularly want to deal with a crowd of humans. Especially not since they had begun to stare from the commotion. How obnoxious.

Seeing the serving girl passing by to deliver drinks to fellow patrons, Sverre gestured her near as she headed back to the kitchens.
"Pardon me love, but is that missy staying at this inn by any chance?" he asked in a conspiratorial whisper, intent on gathering as much information on her as possible.

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#, as written by Kai
Despite her need to confront the man who she once considered a brother, Eilin was glad that he chose to not follow her. She needed time to cool off and gather herself together. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that it wouldn't do that much good. The anger she felt at the sudden revelation of his race could not be simply snuffed out by an evening stroll. Still, anything was better than sitting across from him and listening to his demands for answers.

Little did she know that even with her absence, Sverre was attempting to gain more information on her whereabouts.

“That she is, and for a steal of a cost too,” the serving girl answered, her voice just loud enough for Sverre's ears. She leaned over to gather up the mug that Eilin had abandoned on her way out.

“She's a lone wolf, that one,” she went on as she straightened back up, placing the mug on her tray to be taken back to the kitchens. “Barely a word from her until you showed up. What happened between you two anyway? Been a long time since I seen that much anger in someone. And after you chased that rotten pile of dung from her too.”

“Oy! Some of us are trying to drink here!” A male voice rang through the pub. Seated at the bar, one of the men held up what was likely an empty mug as he hollered over to the serving girl for her attention.

“Simmer down, Remis!” the girl called back at him, waving him off. “I'll get to you in a minute!” Huffing out a breath with a roll of her eyes, she turned back to Sverre and shook her head.


Meanwhile, Eilin rounded her way through the streets, her gaze drifting over the village around her. It was much quieter now that darkness was falling. Though many still stared as they passed her, there were less people to do so.

When she first left the inn, Eilin attempted to track a pair of footsteps that she had been certain were Sverre's. However, the trample of the early evening crowds had all but wiped large parts of the trail clean. After about twenty minutes of attempting to pick the trail back up, she gave in. There was not much she could track once the darkness fell anyway. Instead, she decided to head to the edge of the village.

There, at the gates, she climbed a ladder and was able to get a descent look out over the plains and the forest line where she had come from mere hours ago. There was no trace yet of the approaching demon pack. With any luck, they would end up following a different path through the forest and emerge well out of the way of humans. However, Eilin knew that it was a long shot to hope for such an outcome. Demons went where their food source was and this village was ripe for the taking.

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