Nepic walked behind the mass of hunters, her feet dragged down by renewed hatred for those around her. Ice flowed through her veins, numbing her to the core.
In the first months of this war news of a supernatural killing its own kind had traveled fast among the hunters and a small celebration would be had to torment the supernatural further, but as time dragged on it became more of a murmur. Word didn’t spread like wildfire anymore. Supernaturals were so distraught that they weren’t affected by petty gatherings and the hunters gained nothing. Now, as Nepic trudged on, no hunters made any indication that they knew what had happened beyond these trees.
Above them the sun touched the crest of the mountains, changing to a deep orange and casting sullen shadows through the woods. A chill crept its way into the winds, promising a long and bitter night ahead. The blood on Nepic’s arm had crusted against her skin, the scales already beginning to scab over like the others. Over an hour ago a twitch had started in her right eye and a passing hunter had given her a disgusted look, so she assumed her eye was changing into that of her dragon; along her brow dotted the tips of spikes, her eye was slanting at the corners, and her pupils (though hardly noticeable with the dark shade of her iris) were expanding.
It was bittersweet seeing her body change. With it she knew her time was coming. Soon her body would not be able to hold back her Dragon any longer and she would transform – she would be free; she would be herself. And she would die by the hands of the hunters, with this metal band around her neck.
The winds changed direction and began blowing in from the east, bringing with it more cold and a voice, deep and distant. “Svaust re wux?”
Nepic froze. A voice? In her native tongue? She must have been dreaming. She looked to the west, where the wind had taken the words. Quickly she looked ahead of her. None of the humans had stopped, none of them had heard. Only pure dragons knew of this language, had the power to send their voice in the distance. Only the most trusted could speak in the Dragon tongue.
Quietly Nepic spoke into the wind, “sia ominak ui nepic. svaust tir si renthisj ekess?”. Then she waited..

Alaric's eyes jerked open. How long was he asleep? It was getting a bit dark outside and he wondered where the others went. There was no sign of them. Hannibal prodded his conciousness, trying to get his attention. "She is trying to speak with you." Alaric sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What did she say?" "It seems her name is Nepic. She asks who you are." Was it wise to tell her who he was? Maybe she was the enemy? Oh what the hell. They were safe here, weren't they? Alaric focused and told Hannibal what he wanted to say and he heard his voice once again speaking the strange yet fascinating language. "si mi alaric. wux re vi darastrix, harkt? svaklar re wux?"

The wind carried his reply within the hour. Hope clung to her heart, tightened around her chest and sent shivers down to her fingertips "axun, si mi vi darastrix..". She could tell this Dragon everything. She was captured, she needed help. Maybe he was her freedom - this was her chance! All it took was a simple reply. One sentence at most. I am a prisoner. A Dragon Hunter. She looked down at her arms, the scales had fully scabbed over and the blood had dried on her skin. Many supernaturals were dead because of her. It pained her every day to know what she had done, but she knew she had no choice. Now she had a choice. She wouldn't condemn this free Dragon to come to her aid. There was too big a chance that he would fail, that he, too, would become trapped.
"si mi loreatir, sia thurirl. xihood moxt di ve. visp ve, svanoa re hesi xiekivi?"

Dying? Was she in trouble? What was going on? Could it be she was captured by the humans?

"svabol tepohaic shinalta ekess wux? wux re persvek trouble re ti wux?"

"It is a good chance that she is in captivity." Hannibal told him after translating. "If that is the case, then I believe that there is no hope for her now." "What are you talking about? Can't we do something for her?" Hannibal growled. "No... There is nothing." "There has to be something!" Alaric pleaded. She was one of his kind. He couldn't just leave her there to die.

(OOC: This is the only way to actually be sure that you all get some kind of notification of me saying something. So Hi guys. Go to the OOC for more info)