Sverre's Story

It wasn't lost on her that she was asking a literal demon if he could look like one. Eilin had to ask, however. She knew a lot about full-fledged demons, having learned about and hunted them for years. Half-breeds? Those were a lot more tricky and truth be told, she had never known one before.

Well... She had known one, it turned out.

As Eilin watched Sverre, he almost seemed hesitant in answering her. She couldn't help but think of a stray dog that used to scavenge around the butcher shop near her childhood home. He would always retreat, whining pitifully when caught with a bit of meat in his maw, at least until the butcher all but adopted the hound and began to feed him well.

Just as Sverre seemed to resign to the inevitable answer, however, a distraction arrived in the form of a barmaid. From her perch on the bed, Eilin simply watched the exchange between the two. Sverre had always had an impact on the people he met. It happened in her childhood village and lead to her parents taking him in as their own, and it was happening here. Something about the exchange roused suspicion and unease in her heart, causing her to frown slightly even as the woman addressed her about having such a good friend.

Yeah, friend...

Eilin knew, however, how the situation looked to an outsider. Sverre did save her and bring her back, but what if it was all for some grand show?

And that was when it clicked. Had he known the demon that attacked her? Was it a trap and a set-up?

Eilin had to control herself as the older woman bustled out of the room, leaving them alone, and when Sverre brought over a serving of stew she took it without offering up any additional snark or opposition. Yet she was on alert all the same. She simply ate, for that is what her body demanded, listening as he offered up a response to her question at last.

"What is the demon form?" she pressed him. She had to admit, a part of her was pure curiosity. Yet another part was throwing warning signals up, gathering information, and trying to decipher this narrative that she could not logically piece together in her mind no matter how much she tried.

As the bar maid he had 'saved' and befriended over the past week finally made it downstairs (judging, of course, by his hearing her footsteps), Sverre let out a weary sigh after confirming that he had another form. It wasn't a sigh because he missed the maiden's company, but more the loss of such kindly expressions upon her face. Specifically, he missed having Eilin look at him as the maid did. Sure, she never regarded him with near reverence or obvious admiration, but Eilin had always given him a smile. She once upon a time would always seem pleased to see him and have his company, even when they bickered.

Now though, she thought he was her enemy. Worse, she believed him responsible for the tragedy that struck their village years ago. In a sense, he did feel guilty- -immensely so. But he knew he hadn't betrayed her trust. His loyaly had never faltered. His biggest sin was not being there to save them, and he would regret that to his dying days.

For a moment, the mixed breed didn't touch his stew despite the grumble in his stomach, staring into the bowl as if seeking some divine wisdom or strength. At length, Eilin questioned him on his 'true' form once again. After a moment's hesitation, he raised his cool grey eyes to meet hers.

He thought at length about his demon form trying to picture it from an outside source well enough to describe it. At last, he answered his old friend.

"Well, it's not very pleasing to the eyes...no where near as monstrous and horrifying as quite a good number of demon kind, but definitely not pleasant. It's...it's not humanoid. I suppose you could say it has features of a hellhound, a wolf, and a skeleton as best as I can describe it. Lean..." he trailed off, unsure what else to say. He regarded Eilin in silence in anticipation of her reaction. He only hoped she didn't want to see that shape.

Eilin wasn't sure what to expect as an answer out of Sverre. Even knowing that he was not human, she couldn't imagine what else he could look like aside from... well... simply himself. But it was that familiarity, that form she had come to know and expect. Underneath, logically, she knew he was different. It was a little surprising to her, still, to hear him talk about it and as he described his natural form she tried to picture it knowing full well that the real thing could possibly not live up to her own imagination. She had seen many forms of these demons, yet none that matched his aside from the so-called pets of the packs that sometimes accompanied their raiding parties.

Were those half demons too, then?

Eilin found herself looking away from him in thought as she took another spoonful of the stew. She was holding the bowl gingerly in her strapped-up hand, using her good arm for feeding herself. It seemed to work as well as anything, yet she could hardly taste the food that was surely prepared well by the cook. Her thoughts were too distant and the deep ache in her shoulder constant, leaving little room for her mind to process what it was that she was eating. She simply knew she needed the sustenance and was never one to question a meal when she could get it.

"I see," she finally replied. No, she had no desire to see this form. There was a child within her, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the shattered memories of her days spent with Sverre, and that part wanted to simply see him as an innocent human. No matter how much her logical reasoning screamed at her that it was foolish to pretend at this point. Suspicion still gnawed at her, brought on by the easy manner in which he flitted through the society, all sweet-talk and questionable intentions.

"I went back the next morning," she heard herself speak before she realized she had done so. Her gaze only momentarily flitted back to Sverre before dropping to her bowl of stew. A few spoon fulls already settling into her stomach, she managed to pause herself just long enough to not be speaking with her mouth full.

Having started on the past thoughts, though, she now found she wasn't even sure why she had brought it up. It wasn't like he was there for the aftermath, not that she knew of.

"There was nothing left. Just the foundation of where our house stood. I couldn't even find them in the ash and rubble," she stirred the stew idly, perhaps a little too fiercely than it warranted. "I found tracks, leading away into the forest, and followed them. Didn't know if they were others survivors or the demon pack. It didn't matter, probably. I lost tracks soon enough anyway. That's when I knew there was nothing left for me there."

Perhaps she needed him to hear it, the devastation that the pack had caused. She had never really spoken of that day to anyone since she was first taken in by travelers that she had run into several days later. At first she didn't want to face the realities of what had happened. Later, she didn't see the point of rehashing the past. And finally, she came to terms with the fact that the story was simply not meant for most to hear about.

Sverre sat in silence after his explanation, eyes returning to his stew as he waited uncertainly for a reaction from Eilin. To his relief (and, admittedly, surprise), she chose not to question him further on his non-human form. She acknowledged his words, but that seemed to be as far as her inquiry would go. He didn't question it, but simply nodded to indicate he had heard.

After an awkward silence between the two that he interpreted as her being done with any further communication, he suddenly heard Eilin's voice begin anew. Glancing up to his old friend, the demon felt his stomach drop at the direction her comment was going. That wretched night...

He kept silent, swallowing a lump that was forming in the back of his throat as she continued to speak. A pain he had been trying to suppress for years was being coaxed out with each word she spoke, and Sverre's gaze was locked on where her eyes had briefly met his. The scene was as vivid as when it was first seared into his memory. In addition to the resurfacing memories, her words managed to stir up even more feelings of guilt if possible.

He could have seen her, found her and been there for his one truest friend. If only he had stuck around longer. If only he hadn't fled like a damn coward! Tears didn't flow this time, but his stormy eyes were glassy with unshed moisture as he fought the urge to cry. Dammit all! Maybe they could've had a slightly less painful outcome if only he had waited and searched for her some more.
But even worse, he hadn't thought about any negatives to burying them. Even when he still had that minuscule ounce of hope that Eilin was still alive, he'd gone and laid her family to rest without waiting and finding her.

Slowly, Sverre placed his hand gingerly over the one she was currently using to support the bowl. Managing to meet her eyes with a pained, apologetic expression across his features, the male spoke carefully. He had to fight the urge to hug her, as well as will his voice to remain steady.

"Th-That was my fault. I buried them...under that redberry juniper tree we used to sit under, you know? I couldn't..." he paused, taking a breath to steady his voice and his emotions. "I couldn't leave them there like that. I just couldn't. But the worst part of everything...was not being able to find you." He admitted, recalling vividly how much that hurt. He mourned her family, but he had only truly broken when he couldn't find Eilin.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head as self-loathing and guilt plagued him. He should have been there to protect them! And he hadn't been. All because he went out of his way to stray far into the woods to make a spear for Eilin.

He had thought it'd be the greatest birthday gift, a spear made out of strong, solid wood. One just for her, with traditional carvings, and a sharp carved bone for the spearhead. Instead, it ended up being the only reason he wasn't there to defend his human family!

And it was the only thing he had been able to bury in Eilin's place...

It was strange. Eilin had always thought that voicing the past would bring on tears. Yet it seemed to do the opposite. It was as if each word was laying bricks, surrounding herself behind a wall, and detaching her from her own life. From the demon that now sat beside her. The dark haired woman sat, lost in thought of that heart-wrenching day.

It wasn't until she felt Sverre's hand on her own that she was brought back to the present, almost instinctively flinching at the connection. Her gaze locked onto his, dark green eyes widening as if she just realized how close he had gotten. It was his voice - or perhaps the words he spoke - that seemed to settle her for the moment, stopping her from fleeing his presence.

She had never once even thought of going back to where the village had once stood. A part of her didn't want to revisit those memories and grieve for her family. Another part was afraid of what she might find there. Yet she remembered the tree that Sverre spoke of. She had dragged him out there to spend their days enough times. To know that her parents were buried under it brought about a strange calm that she couldn't quite place. Perhaps knowing that they were buried at all was a comforting thought. It was this that seemed to relax her a little, her fingers easing their grip on the bowl and spoon.

"I assumed they were buried under the ash," she admitted to him after a moment of taking in this new information he offered her. Her voice sounded distant, detached almost, as she attempted to process everything.

Sverre was a demon. A half demon by his claims. He had nothing to do with the attack, once more by his claims, yet he definitely knew the pack that attacked the village that night. She ran through these facts in her head, trying to straighten them, lay them out for inspection.

Her gaze had dropped to her stew at some point, not quite pulling away from his touch yet remaining still within it. She lifted her gaze finally to him, seeming to come to a conclusion. "The scout," she pivoted the topic completely just as quickly as she landed on it. "If he's dead, the pack can't be far behind. His death may have bought a few days before they come looking."

Sverre found himself more than just slightly mollified when Eilin didn't react violently to his slight touch on her hand. Having half- expected her to jerk away in disgust or anger, he only noticed a slight tremor of her muscles. She flinched, but the fact that she didn't recoil was strangely comforting.

Waiting with more uncertainty and concern than he'd ever admit to, the half breed watched her expression as he talked. He wasn't entirely sure how Eilin would take his news, but he was grateful that she wasn't instantly angry. He sat perfectly still, stew all but forgotten as she relaxed ever so slightly. That was a promising sign, surely? Was she alright with his chosen burial plot?

The man said nothing as Eilin admitted where she assumed they rested. He didn't repeat himself, seeing no point in reiterating any of the facts. He doubted it would offer any more in the way of comfort to bring it up again. He didn't think any words would be particularly welcome or consoling at the moment. Her voice sounded almost distant, hollow. Perhaps a tad melancholy. He simply sat with his hand on hers, hoping his giving them a burial provided at least some modicum of comfort for her deep seated pain.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden shift in topic, causing the man to puzzle over whether that was a good sign or not. The scout who had tried to kill her. What made her suddenly think of that? Finally releasing Eilin's hand, Sverre spooned some stew into his mouth as she spoke. Finally, he gave a slight shrug, not overly concerned or interested one way or the other. "Yes...very likely." He agreed with a nod, wondering vaguely what was running through his old friend's mind.

As Sverre's fingers left hers, Eilin could feel tension melt away. It would have been a nice change had her shoulder not given a painful throb just then, causing her to have to grit her teeth in favor of not visibly wincing in front of him. His short reply to her assessment made her eyebrows draw together slightly. It was far too nonchalant and dismissive to the dangers demons brought about with them.

Her gaze lifted up to him before her head turned to follow, lips pressed into a line. It had already been 2 days since the fight, surely he didn't expect that this village had all the time in the world to remain blissfully unaware of the dangers beyond their gates. Eilin had to catch herself, however, in that thought. Of course he wouldn't care much, protecting humanity was her burden to carry, not his.

It was a show of restraint that she finished the last couple of spoon fulls of stew before doing or saying anything else. Or perhaps it was simply her body asking for the nutrients that it needed to keep living. Whatever the case, she was glad to be able to put down the bowl before swinging leg off the bed and getting up as quickly as she was able to, as if to avoid being stopped again by Sverre.

"I need to warn the guards," she made her intent known. It was useless to hide it, he would likely know what she wanted to do either way. Remarkably, she seemed to be shaking off all matters of personal history that had just been voiced mere minutes ago as if nothing had ever happened. It was a coping mechanism she had picked up years ago. Keep your mind clear. Stay on task. Stay on track. Survive. Her minor slip-up on this had cost her dearly already.

Sverre had to give the human credit, noting her resistance to the pain undoubtedly radiating from her healing shoulder. The only tell he could pick up on was a clench of her jaw as she grit her teeth. No vocalizations, no complaints, not even a flinch (though the male wondered why on earth she'd force herself to appear impervious to pain. She had been pierced all the way through for heavens sake!) He chose not to comment lest he wound her pride.

Eilin's frown earned an arch of his brow, the demon wondering what on earth was going through his friends stubborn head this time. He had barely said a word; he merely acknowledged her prediction as the most likely outcome. So why on earth had she gone from quiet and hardly readable to the frown? She finished her food just a few bites after he had placed his bowl aside, and seemed to suddenly be in a hurry. What was she up to now?

Sverre somehow resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Eilin's intentions, tempted to say she would be hard pressed to impart the significance and danger of her knowledge to the guards. They had grown far too complacent. Even as she moved to gather her spear and be ready to venture outside, the half breed stood to accompany her. He cocked his head aside to crack his neck before donning his now shabby looking cloak and picking up his greatsword. Resting it over his shoulder, he made sure to keep close to Eilin, debating on whether or not he should insist she rest.

He doubted the huntress would agree to such a suggestion, her bull-headed nature rivaling his own. Fine, he'd wait until her body told her to kindly calm the crap down.

"Alright then, wait up." He said as he approached, shaking his head softly. "But don't get yourself in a tizzy, they'll be there whether you walk or run. Don't overdo it by trying to rush." Sverre admonished, but made no move to stop the woman. He settled for watching her movements, ready to follow the determined woman on her impromptu mission.

It was only through a shift in her gaze that Eilin acknowledged the fact that Sverre had moved off the bed and toward his own weapon. The skin at the back of her neck prickled uneasily. She didn’t like him with a weapon in hand, she found. Even if the last time he held it, it ended up saving her life. She was suddenly on alert.

Busying herself with making sure that she didn’t have to move her bad arm at all, lest the movement cause further pain, she grabbed her spear in her other hand. A part of her was strangely aware that it was Sverre who, when she was a child, first taught her how to hold a weapon properly in both hands. This despite her insistence that she was not ambidextrous and would never have a use for such a skill.

Let’s dig this hole deeper she thought with a ping of bitterness to herself. It was only when Sverre spoke up that she paused, turning her head to look at him properly. His lack of care for timing only earned him a glare in response.

“The demons don’t wait,” she replied shortly.

Yet despite her apparent distaste for her current company, she did nothing to stop him from following. Truth be told, she could do nothing to prevent him from following her. Even if she could somehow lock the door on him, she was sure he would find his way out the window before she even made it downstairs and she was in no condition to try and fight him off. Not that she would voice that in any way. She was, in effect, forced to allow his company.

“Just….” she sized him up, as if figuring out the best way to utilize him for her own means. “Don’t draw any attention.”

She waited just long enough to let her point sink in before turning and heading out of the room, steeled for what needed to be done.

There was something to say for the guards in this village. They truly had become complacent in the lack of danger that came through here. In truth, this village likely had never seen a demon attack. It was tucked well out of the way, beyond the borders of the western forests and not anywhere near the main roads. It only made sense that people here felt as safe as can be.

And there was the hard part. Convincing a guard of such a village that there really was danger beyond the borders.

Eilin was annoyed with herself that she had to move slower than usual. Her trek down the stairs and to the outside was enough to cause her to feel somewhat overheated from the exertion. To her relief, downstairs was not overly crowded as the evening crowds were now almost dispersed, either stumbling away drunk somewhere or passed out in their rooms.

Eilin took in the site around her. The snow had stopped. About a day ago, she guessed based on the trampled paths that wound their way through the village. Any ventures off these beaten paths would have to be covered up somehow. The moon hung bright in the sky, almost at its full peak with only a sliver hidden in the otherwise black void.

The dark-haired woman cast a furtive glance back at Sverre before trekking out into the cold in silence. Though instead of heading straight for the gates, and the guards that were no doubt camped out there, she skirted to the east side of the village, ducking behind a row of small houses there and making her way slowly and silently toward the edge of the village there.

It must have been a good 15 minutes before they reached what she seemed to be looking for. A weakness spot in the wall that provided a way to slip underneath it. It was the same spot she had used to sneak in and out of the village on previous occasions, undiscovered. Now, she carefully slid her spear underneath before ducking down after it, her movement somewhat stiff and her breath hitching as the pain in her shoulder protested the action of fitting through such a narrow space. Still, she managed to wedge through as quickly as she dared, knowing it was better than prolonging the inevitable.

On the other side, she had to take a moment to gather herself again, readjusting the make-shift sling around her arm and biting back quite a few colorful swears in the process. It was only sheer determination that kept her going.

Sverre nearly rolled his eyes in retort at Eilin's glare, her assumption that demons wouldn't wait accurate but no less relevant in his mind. "True, but you rushing into the thick of it won't help you any. Your success is not secured in speed, but in strategy." He retorted, otherwise offering no more advice for the time being. Likewise, her insistence that he not draw attention was simply met with a arched brow and a shrug. Couldn't be helped that his main weapon was large.

The care taken to avoid agitating her wound and the extra effort her body required to push through did not go unnoticed by the halfling. His only indication of realizing it lay in his gaze, frowning slightly in concern. Such a stubborn wench!

Of course, he wasn't exactly one to talk...

The cold night wind was unpleasant, but not unbearable for the demon, an inconvenience he could deal with if need be. Free hand tucked into a pocket, the other held the greatsword steady against his shoulder, the fabric of his gloves just enough to ward off a chill. Had he really worn them that much in the past year and a half? He made a mental note to get new gloves as well when he finally got the chance to replace his cloak he'd cut to make the temporary bandage for Eilin.

If he thought their current path was odd, he didn't show it, though he did secretly wonder what in the seven hells she was up to. Having no insight into her plans, the male let his questions and misgivings be for now. Maybe the town watch's headquarters was away from the gate? Odd, but not unheard of.

By the time Sverre finally realized what Eilin was up to, they arrived at the wall and a minor opening someone her size could fit through. She had better be here to simply patch it up or provide a temporary barrier...

No, the daft woman was crawling through to the other side! Sverre let out a soft growl of frustrated disbelief, shaking his head at her disappearing form. Eilin must have lost her damn mind!

With another frustrated sigh, the half demon took several steps back before running at the wall. At the last moment, his feet moved him into a run up the side, vaulting up the wall in three rapid strides before grabbing the top before he could lose momentum. Thank goodness for physical advantages.

Hoisting himself up with a muttered curse, Sverre was on top of the wall for only a moment before dropping to the other side below just as Eilin emerged. His scowl was directed at her once more, and he placed a hand on her good shoulder.

"Are you daft?" He began incredulously. "What about your plan to warn the guards? Surely you aren't foolish enough to try and take them on yourself? You may be strong and brave, but even at your best this would be suicidal. And you're injured. What in the hell could you possibly have to do out here?"

Letting out a breath as his frustration eased up, Sverre shook his head, voice no longer scolding. " Look, just ask for help once in a while. And don't worry about a hole in the wall, that will not do much to hinder or help the creatures of the night."

Eilin had just gotten her good hand on her spear again, straightening up slowly to survey the area, when Sverre’s hand on her shoulder drew her short. There was an edge of warning in the look she shot him, moving back a step and knocking his hand aside with the shaft of her spear.

“Don’t…” she warned him, her own voice a sharp whisper. Don’t what exactly? Touch her? Speak? Question her? Perhaps all three had a home in that one single word. She didn’t have much chance to explain even if she wanted to, for Sverre dropped his harsh tone in favor of what must have seemed like a helpful lecture to him but only cemented in her mind one thing.

He had no idea what they were doing out here.

And this simple fact seemed to at the very least still her own anger for the moment. She regarded him with a slight tilt of her head, silent as if sizing up her options and deciding her next move. Then, she stepped forward, easily closing the distance between them that she had broken only a few seconds earlier, her chin tilted up to look him in the eye.

“If I die tonight, this village dies,” she spoke in a whisper, the close distance allowing for quiet conversation if for nothing else. “Do not mistake me for someone so foolish. You either follow me without question or return to the inn. There is no time to argue this.”

Oddly, as soon as the words left her, she almost seemed to realize how close she had gotten and her gaze dropped with that fact. She was too close, her simple intention to speak while going unnoticed morphing into some form of awkwardness that she rarely let slip through her tough facade. She barely managed to pull herself together enough to step to the side, sweeping past him before her shell could show any cracks.

Pull yourself together, she badgered herself now, stubbornly trekking onward and well past the bounds of the village without as much as a glance back to the demon who elected to keep her company.

Whatever small awkwardness she faced with him could wait. And wait it did, for as she walked onward, her muscles were able to relax slightly. All save for the constantly aching ones in her injured shoulder. It wasn’t long before it became apparent that she was circling her way around the village, building a wider arc that eventually brought them to the edge of the forest where she had almost been killed not a moon ago.

Blending into the shadows of the underbrush and canopy was almost second nature to the huntress and she ducked beyond the first few rows of trees, continuing her wide circle to the point that would bring them toward the gate. The trek itself could not have taken more than twenty minutes normally, yet with her injury Eilin had to slow down a few times, using her spear to lean against through the worst of the pains flaring up from her shoulder. It wasn’t until they were half way to her intended point that she figured out a much better way to support her arm that didn’t cause as many issues and from there they were able to move a little faster and easier.

It was as she caught sight of the gates beyond the forest that Eilin began to slow in her step, taking care to pick her way silently through the underbrush. Not that she needed to, for the guards clearly were not on alert. Huddled around small fires, some were playing cards while others joked and laughed with one another. A couple of guards to the side were slumped over, half asleep against their weapons. The sight made Eilin sigh silently to herself. No one in their right mind could hope to even try telling these men that there could be danger coming for them. A fool’s errand, to be sure.

Coming to a stop beyond a larger tree, Eilin gazed out toward the fire-lit faces of the guards. None looked to be even on the smallest bit of alert or attempting to look about for anyone that was approaching.

With a shake of her head, Eilin pulled back and her gaze swept the canopy above, searching for a lower branch. Normally, she would have no problem swinging herself up into a tree for a better vantage point but this was where her stubbornness and determination seemed to have been smacked in the face with reality. There was no possible way she could hope to even try climbing in her condition.

What felt like almost too long of a moment passed as she thought, her gaze sweeping the surroundings in hopes of finding something she could use to accomplish her goals herself. Finally, it was with almost a resolve, that dark green gaze landed on her companion. She seemed to be biting back several curses as she let out a huff and turned toward him as if resolving herself to the last plan in her playbook.

Leaving her spear against a tree, she instead dug into a pouch that hung from her belt, coming up with a dark piece of torn cloth. This, she unbound to reveal two throwing knives that, on brief inspection, she knew Sverre would realize were of demon-make. Her mind made up, she handed these to Sverre.

“The guards will listen to no reason on this,” she whispered what they both likely knew already. “They will only be on alert if there is reason for them to be. You want to help? Give them that reason.”

Her gaze trailed from him to the branches above in a silent instruction to climb to a good vantage point. "Do not be seen." The rest was in his hands.

Sverre's frown deepened as Eilin shoved his hand away, distancing herself from him with a harsh whisper. It both irritated and saddened him to have his best friend treat him in such a manner. His cool grey eyes watched her, waiting for some follow up to her angry whisper. At first, it seemed she would say nothing more, prompting the tall male to step back towards her.

Simultaneously, Eilin took two steps towards him in turn, looking almost quizzical for a moment if he were to place a guess. Calculating something in that stubborn little head of hers. Sverre's frown morphed into a cocked brow, trying to figure his old companion out. As he did so, she regarded him in what almost seemed an appraising manner, sizing him up before finally speaking.

Her whispered words caused a frown to return to his features, restraining a low growl of disapproval. If she died? Like hell he would let her die! Even if he had to drag her sorry ass out and abandon the village to save her, he'd do it without a second thought. He had a suspicion she wouldn't approve of that particular thought.
But more to the point, did that mean he was correct in his assumptions that she was going to try and take on a pack of demons by herself? She was a damn fool!

Thankfully, Eilin interrupted before he could verbally berate her, this time her words giving him pause. So she wasn't going on a suicide mission? Good. But still, that didn't explain what they were doing or why she mentioned to possibility of her death as if it were suddenly more likely than any normal circumstance. The male rolled his eyes as she essentially told him to shut up or leave. Like hell he was going back to the inn. Stupid girl.

For his part, Sverre did manage to keep quiet as requested, though he kept a watchful gaze on his injured companion. The swiftness with which she put distance back between them and an indecipherable look in her eyes had him wondering just what on earth was going on in her mind. Storing the observations for now, the half breed decided he could take his musings up with her later.

It took a few minutes, but Sverre soon noticed what exactly Eilin was up to with her little trek. He wasn't entirely certain just why she felt the need to circle around so much before reaching the area of the forest where she had gone in an nearly been killed. But if that helped her map out the area, so be it. He did notice, however, that the huntress was slowed down a bit as she struggled with her shoulder. As expected, she stubbornly refused to meet his eyes or in any was signal she could use a hand. Tempted as he was to insist he help, Sverre managed to keep to himself. Let her admit to needing help on her own.

When they stopped at last, Sverre guessed it was nearly fourty minutes to an hour since the journey had begun. The guards at this part of the gate were, not surprisingly, overly content and careless. Poor, clueless saps.

Eilin glanced around and ultimately up a tree, causing the demon's concerns to begin to rise. She had to be aware climbing a tree wouldn't be very likely for a while...right?
Sverre watched her closely, looking about ready to question her plans again. She was clearly looking for something, but he had his doubts about her finding whatever insight or trick she sought.

It was only when Eilin regarded him with resignation that Sverre approached, watching the young woman reveal two throwing knives. Demon throwing knives, to be exact. It was impressive to see she had beaten a demon and made off with two weapons. A dark brow arched, looking mildly impressed as she presented the items to him.

Her plan confirmed and fully formed in his mind now, after placing his greatsword beside her spear, Sverre took the knives- slight grin on his face. So this was her plan instead of trying to talk to deaf ears? Not bad at all. Turning the weapons over in his hands, he nodded to convey he understood. He could definitely make them listen.

"Easy enough." He remarked with a confident shrug, taking one tip of the blade to his finger an piercing the skin ever so slightly. As a tiny bead of blood emerged, Sverre quickly dipped the tip into the liquid and drew a tiny set of runes onto each blade. Just to make things more interesting.

Eilin was once more met with a roll of the eyes, the male giving her a look that could only mean 'obviously!' As if he'd be seen!

One knife in between his teeth, the other in hand, Sverre carefully made his way up the tree by scaling the trunk and crouching among the branches. He kept to the shadows and adjusted himself to witness the complacent guards. He waited a moment, careful to ensure the moon wouldn't cast any shadow or sliver of light on his hiding spot. At last, he threw the daggers with ease, jumping back down to the ground as they landed.

The daggers embedded themselves into a crack in the wall and in front of one of the poker set ups, respectively. Besides the sudden alarm of having incoming knives, the blades crackled with a small amount of energy- producing electric shocks and pulses just enough to look like small lighning bolts. Sverre grinned at Eilin, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Message sent."

Eilin would never admit to the fact that relinquishing the blades into Sverre’s possession was one of the toughest things she had to do in the last several days. She didn’t trust the male standing before her. She had no idea what to think of him at the moment, in fact, her mind still buzzing with the idea that he was even alive and not at all human. Yet he did not argue and followed her instruction without a fuss which was more than she could say for the guards at the gate.

Wearily she watched the demon scribble his blood into some form of runic writing. It was an ancient form, rooted in the earth itself, but she had no understanding of it past this most basic fact. Her eyes merely narrowed at it and before she could protest the use of magic unknown to her Sverre was already climbing up the very tree she would have likely chosen if she had the ability to move about freely.

Forced to remain behind, the woman rested against the trunk with the weapons, her gaze flickering about in case an unexpected traveler should come wandering down the road. Yet all was quiet for the moment.

It wasn’t until Sverre dropped down next to her that Eilin saw the blades connect with their intended targets, sparks shooting out with what appeared to be lighting, sizzling and cracking around the unsuspecting guards.

That was when the commotion broke out.

Eilin caught sight of weapons being grabbed as the guards scrambled. One man fell cleanly backwards off of his small stool, nearly upending the fire pit he had been sitting in front of. Cards went flying in all directions and dogs began to bark. Eilin ducked behind the bushes almost on instinct should she be seen, reaching out with her good hand to drag Sverre down with her.

It took several minutes for the lighting sparks and commotion to dissipate after that during which Eilin merely listened, her gaze trained on the ground in front of her. It wasn’t until things began to settle that she chanced movement. By then, the captain of the guard was calling out orders to the others and the men were beginning to come together on higher alert than they had been since she had first arrived in the town. It had certainly been a quick and efficient way to capture their attention.

Eilin’s gaze finally lifted to Sverre as she stirred from her spot. It was only then that she realized that her fingers were still wrapped around the tatters of his cloak, almost as if keeping him down and out of sight as well. Slowly, she let her fingers uncurl, letting him go.

“Check the perimeter,” she heard the captain bark at his men.

“Time to go,” Eilin whispered. They were well enough hidden away, though she knew that should any of the guards wander past the first several layers of trees, they would undoubtedly pick up on the fact that there was someone hiding there. So it was carefully that Eilin gathered her spear and headed off. Though she was not backtracking the way they had come. Instead, she headed deeper into the forest, skirting the side of the main path.

The results went as expected, and it took considerable effort not to laugh at how ridiculous the unsuspecting guards looked when their peace was so rudely interrupted. Such guards would be of little help when real trouble came, and Sverre was more than willing to show the buffoons the error of their ways. Grinning ear to ear, he ducked as prompted, though he had his doubts these clumsy idiots would gather their wits quick enough to spot them just yet.

The way they scrambled to get their bearings was entertaining to watch, and some of them almost looked shocked or scared enough to have pissed themselves. Sverre found the thought more amusing than he probably should have, and held a hand up near his face in case he felt like snickering. He did, however, notice Eilin had yet to let go of his ruined cloak. He decided not to comment on it or give away the fact that he had become aware of it. It was admittedly kind of nice to be crouched behind a bush with his oldest and dearest friend. He felt like a naughty student who had escaped the boring lessons of a tutor (not, however, that he had ever been of rank or status to be afforded such privileges).

When Eilin finally let go, it was to prompt him to leave as the guards spread out to begin a search. The imbecils hopefully had enough sense to leave two or so as watch to keep an eye on the gate. Otherwise, they were useless, and no warning would be of any good.

Grabbing his greatsword, Sverre followed swiftly behind Eilin, grinning broadly as he turned to face her. In the near distance, he heard another voice- one of close rank to the captain if the tone of authority was to go by, call out another addition to the orders. "Find the attackers! Don't let them get away!"

Sverre's grin widened if possible, eyes alight with mischievous glee.

"Well, that was certainly exciting, wasn't it?" He asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

Moving through the underbrush was considerably easier on the outskirts of the forest and near the path, yet Eilin set her course away from both. No sooner had the command to not let them escape was given, than they lost sight of the gate completely, obscuring themselves within the density of the evergreens that dotted the landscape.

So much for the guards being able to do their duty for the village.

Sverre's words were met with a side glance from the dark-haired woman, her lips pressed together in what could only be described as silent concentration. It was baffling to her how he could take such glee from what they were doing and have fun with a task that she, herself, deemed only a forced necessity. She wasn't a stranger to humanity's naive nature. She, herself, had once been naive as well. And she knew full well that simply walking up to a guard and trying to explain the dangers that lay in wait would result in a lot of mock laughter, for people thought themselves advanced and far above anything the world could throw at them. It was a frustrating burden she had taken on herself very early in life.

And then there was Sverre, fleeting through society with what seemed to be no care for the rise and collapse of communities. Sverre, who professed to care for her and her family and who had aided in killing of demons on her watch, yet seemed to take just as much joy in plotting against humans. She had yet to sort her feelings out about him, muddled as they were in their twisted past, and she knew it would be a good long while until she was able to figure them out.

"Not the word I would have chosen,” she replied, tearing her gaze from the demon.

The further they got away from the gate, the easier it was to relax about not being overheard. As the voices of the guards faded into the distance behind them, Eilin eventually took to the path, gingerly readjusting the sling around her arm to sit more securely. It was quickly becoming apparent that she had no plan to return to the inn just then as she headed squarely into the dark forest, following the same path that almost ended in her death just a couple of days ago.

The moonlight as the only guiding light, Eilin moved carefully yet decisively as she retraced her steps, casting glances to Sverre from time to time. She had questions, yet every time she thought of voicing them, they would be stopped before she could form the actual words.

It wasn’t until a fork in the path split and she remembered to go to the right that she finally spoke up with yet another side glance to her rather unexpected companion.

“Why did you follow me?” she asked.

Eilin's expression wasn't lost on the demon, the male following his companion with ease despite the increasing density of the forest. For a moment, he was blessedly silent with his inner musings, but it didn't last long.  He wasn't quite sure what to make of the dark haired woman's gaze upon him, but he was fairly certain it wasn't exactly with fond or otherwise positive regard. No, those pursed lips lips definitely held some measure of disapproval or the like.

Letting out a slight huff, Sverre shook his head as Eilin finally spoke, his expression reminiscent of a pout. "What? No one was maimed or killed. We sent a clear warning of danger, and got to scare the crap out of some poor, inattentive idiots. Maybe they'll be better afterwards. It's not the harshest way to learn by any means." He reasoned with a nonchalant shrug. Suspecting she would still be disapproving of this answer, he had the decency to look at least somewhat sorry for his mirth. "Is it so wrong to find their bumbling about amusing? To think their expressions were rather ridiculous?"

"And besides..." he continued after a moment, voice somewhat softer as he imagined better feelings between them, the companionship they shared years ago. "We both got to take part. You knew how to send the message, I helped deliver it. Now it's up to them."

The halfling noticed the path they took seemed to be leading deeper into the forest. More specifically, along the same route that Eilin had gone when she had been shot at. The mental image of her falling prey to the finishing blow made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The feeling was unpleasant, and he felt almost sick at the thought ofbwhat could have transpired had he been too late.

He'd have failed her a second time.

Thankfully, the dark haired huntress' late question caught his attention before he could get lost in thought. Sverre chanced a more direct glance at Eilin, not faltering in his steps despite his attention not being directed in front. He regarded her words a moment, pondering for a second how to best explain himself. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure why he'd been so hellbent on finding her. Pretty sure, but not entirely.

Sverre took a slight breath, mulling her question over even as he finally answered. "Honestly? At first I was just pissed and trying to get answers, confront you despite your obvious efforts to avoid me..." he began, brows furrowed slightly as he played over the past week in his mind. "I'd...had a nightmare about...that day. So, I was more frustrated than earlier. And the fact that you looked like, well, you...I was particularly pissed off to see my only friend's face haunting me when I lost her already." Sverre stopped, interrupting his story, only he now looked more than just a tad embarrassed.

"I know, I know... it should have been obvious who you were by that point. But honestly? I couldn't be sure I wasn't projecting to some degree, seeing more similarities than there were. I truly believed you dead..."

Clearing his throat, the half demon continued, looking ahead once more. "In any case, after running about and getting my sword sharpened, I thought to look for you. I had just about decided to go back to the inn and wait when I saw a piece of fabric caught on a thorny bush outside the town limits.  I snuck out, checked it, and caught your scent. All I had to do then was follow." Sverre turned back to her with a frown and a berating huff. "You were daft to go hunting demonkind so late and so far from the town. All on your own no less! What if had been more than one?" He snapped, sounding a tad harsher than intended.

The male cleared his throat, looking apologetic as he regained his composure. "A-anyways! I saw you get shot the first time, and, well...I couldn't just leave you there to die from some punk scout." He finished with a half shrug.

Sverre's answer stirred an uneasy feeling as Eilin listened to him. It only made sense that he was suspicious of her identity. She had recognized him right away, the moment she all but landed on top of him, why would he not sense the same familiarity in her?

It was this suspicion she attempted, and evidently failed, to avoid by leaving off her face paint and escaping his presence as quickly as possible. The more he talked, the more she found herself wishing that she could have stayed dead for him, and he for her. Being shot through with an arrow not withstanding, the memories brought about by his presence were ones she didn't wish to fully relive. And how she wanted to go back to believing that her closest childhood friend was nothing more than a human. A victim fallen to the pack along with her family.

It was Sverre's latest accusation surrounding her decisions that brought the woman's gaze back up to his, eyes hardening even as he regained some semblance of composure. Though her usual jab back at him didn't come right away. Instead, as he finished, she looked away again, taking the left-hand path this time as they came across the second fork. They were close to the scout's hide-out now, she remembered the very trees she walked among right before she heard the whistle of the arrow.

"My fate was sealed long ago," she replied finally, an edge of finality in her tone. "I will die by the hands of a demon. One way or another. I would rather it happen while fighting for my own kin, then I know I have done all I can with this life."

Her steps slowed, now stepping carefully around the brush and approaching what now looked like a white snowy lump where the scout's body remained. It was exactly where they had left it in their escape from the forest, untouched by anything aside from nature itself.

"Neither you nor I can change it," she added as she knelt down to brush the snow down off of the scout's body, revealing his now drained and frozen face that managed to look even more gruesome now than it had two days ago.

"I suggest you come to terms with it. I have."

Eilin's hand drifted down, quickly brushing snow off the scout's chest, revealing the armor she only glimpsed briefly in the fight that had taken place. Idly she traced the insignia that was etched into the metal. It glinted softly in the moonlight overhead, making her brows furrow.

"I've seen this symbol before," she said after a moment of inspection. But where?