Setting
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Occurrences
Shadows whip between the trees. It can be quite unsettling
In certain areas, trees are torn into. Some cuts are
fresher than others. It appears as if there was a brawl.
There is a cluster of strange, strange eggs.
Unusual amounts of wolves can be
heard howling around the Full Moon
She was tall.
The red werewolf got up on his hind haunches and stood human-like. She spoke to him. He cocked his head to the right. She spoke again. He cocked his head to the left.
Kethyr snarled in agreement. Cheers. He knew that one. The snarl was almost a sneeze - followed by happy panting.
Yes, it was nice and cool in the Cursed Wood. He shook his fur, feeling the very start of the unturn beginning to subside.
"Eurydice Reverencia, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said in a sophisticated manner, making her approach before kneeling down close. There was a clear lack of any fear in her movements, and a lack of menace for that matter. "But aww, look'it you, are you really all here by yer lonesome, matey? Yer pallies leave you high and dry, or somethin'? Well that ain't cricket."
He rested back on his haunches and extended a rough skinned half-paw-half-hand towards Eurydice. His eyes were still that of a wolf, though his snout was shorter and fleshier than it was ten minutes ago. Kethyr had not necessarily forgiven Maria for the abandonment, but he had become rather comfortable in his solitude. Kethyr was a bit of a shy guy, a loner, before his turning.
Kethyr had wallowed in self pity when the reality of being a werewolf had set in, and he realized this Cursed Wood was his home.
Then he had tried to be hard.
He had wanted to fight.
He had tried to learn.
He just... wasn't exactly cut from vicious cloth. At all.
Kethyr had finally accepted that.
A life of solitude suited Kethyr. It's what he had before turning. The hope for reintegration with humanity had been abandoned long ago, or so he thought. This very tall doggish lady sparked something inside him with their fun little romp through the trees.
"Not lonesome, just alone," He waggled a pointed ear - it wasn't trying to go anywhere anytime soon - and flicked his tail to kick up some fallen leaves.
"Kethyr," The werewolf gave his name.
"Packless, alone yet not lonesome? Ah! I see, I see, you're an introvert then, luv?" she said, pointing finger guns at him. She then crossed her arms on her knees as she crouched down and poked at her head and slowly leaned in, her tone getting rather serious, her pupils constricting to near pinholes. "Though, word of advice, mate? Personal experience: don't get stuck in yer own head too long, does somethin' grim to the ol' nut. Took a whole bloody squad t'pull me back, remember nothing from then, and I weren't a little girl anymore."
She paused, placing a hand on her chin and leaned back with a thoughtful look as she gazed off. "Holup, maybe that last part is different for werewolves," she said, back to her more chipper tone. As she rubbed her chin in thought, both her arms had been resting on her knees this entire time, leaving a bit of a mystery hand here. She reset her focus on the werewolf. "SoOoOoo, Kethyr, how long since you've been bitten? How in control of yourself are you? Have a particular taste in music?"
Depression is one hell of a drug, he heard someone say once.
Kethyr stared her back in the eyes as she leaned in close, his pupils growing wide as hers grew small. She smelled good. It had also been what felt like a century since he had heard the term introvert. He stifled a barky laugh as she continued, imparting some personal experience that was...oddly relatable.
"Not too different," Kethyr said as he sat up a hair taller. Half wolf, half man, and half naked. His face was usually the last part to return. He felt his knees pop into a different shape and plopped down in a more comfortable sit in the cushion of leaves.
And now came the questions. They seemed pretty regular, though they caused Kethyr to wince all the same. He looked to the branches above as he considered how to answer them. It had been forever since he had been bitten. So long, he stopped counting days and nights and weeks and months. It had taken all those days, and nights, and weeks, months even to gain the control he had over his wolf form. He wasn't sure he felt like talking about that all just yet. Brought back bad memories. Brought back feelings of failure.
As for music?
His maw split into a genuine grin, "What was that you were playing?"
He immediately reaches into his vest for a GPS device. He's careful, he's had the sound muted and the obscuration spells covered his traces from most means that weren't magical, so he was pretty much covered when it came to the werewolves and vampires out on patrol. He was a near-expert in non-detection as well, able to step lightly and agilely into places that only the best of trackers were able to find, something he's pretty sure is a sense only humans or lesser-powered creatures would have to rely on, as vampires and other 'kin' relied heavily on their higher senses, rather than on basic skills, another thing to be glad for.
If anybody were to notice him, which while unlikely wasn't impossible, they would see what looked to be a shadow that slowly faded into something like a person, then into the armored figure that he would be seen as close-up.
He turns on the GPS, then slowly navigates through the woods, pausing at every snap and noise to analyze his surroundings. He stops around a rotted tree to remove a shovel, a black, folding affair, and quietly navigates to a tree, where he cuts a line wrapped around the trunk.
A large, black bag falls to the ground, which the armored man moves deftly to catch. He lowers it to the ground, opening the straps to reveal an assortment of knives, as well as one hatchet and a short machete. He removes both of the larger bladed implements, attaching them to sheathes at either side of his belt, and then tucks four throwing knives into a strap across his chest. He throws the bag back on after closing it, and then sets off to the next point.
He continues on, gathering a compound bow and quiver at the next stop, and then moves on to his final point, when he comes to a clearing. Well. There were two individuals standing over his next point, about seven yards from where he buried. He supposes he could throw a knife into an eye or fire an arrow from a distance, but he doubts that would prevent him from being noticed. Werewolves, as one of them seemed, were notoriously hard to kill, and he couldn't take it out from a distance with the weapons he had. He might be able to take it in melee, but that would require a grapple, and he didn't have time to spend fighting some dog-blooded freak.
He decides to remain with his anonymity, and just stands where he is, bow in his hands, an arrow nocked, staring directly at the two from some shadows.
He did, however, answer her last question with a question, and with a short chuckle. "Oh, that tickle yer fancy, luv? That is some 80's style synthpop that has been havin' a resurgence of late, an' it resonates, y'know? I can play more if ya want."
As she smiled to him, there was suddenly a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, but she figured it was just the weird magical nature of this place. The shadows always seemed to be moving, but then again, so were hers.
Annoying, as they were talking music. He'd argue that Eurydice and himself were having a grand old time.
Another disturbance not far off, in the opposite direction. Kethyr growled. There were two things, they were being surrounded. He flicked his gaze back to Eurydice. Was this a plan of hers?
A faint Hello called through the trees. Kethyr remain frozen, listening to two different directions to the best of his ability. He wasn't bad at it, as it turned out. It seemed someone out there was lost, and it sounded like they bumbled through the trees and along their way.
"The Cursed Wood isn't safe," Kethyr said to Eurydice, pointing with his tail in the general direction of Lewis before sweeping it wide and thumping it on the leaves. There was a loud crack as his joints began to reform.
As for now, it seemed that he had been discovered, judging by the sudden transformation of the werewolf as it decides to turn back. Surely, he wasn't doing that for nothing, and he sure wasn't going to bet on the fact that the two out there were now fighting.
He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck as he sets the bow on the ground, withdrawing the entrenchment tool that he was going to use to hopefully recover his next selection of weaponry.
He steps out into the clearing, shovel held in one hand, the blade pointed down at the ground. He pauses for a moment before he dispels his obscuration magic, the shadows quickly receding from his figure, revealing a six-foot-three figure dressed in full body armor. On closer inspection, one could see perhaps hundreds of small, white lines about an inch long running along the upper body of the suit. It was a menacing sight, for sure.
The moment is probably lost when the figure raises a fist to his obscured mouth, coughs lightly, and then says monotonely, "Forgive me for the interruption. I believe you two are standing over something of mine, I would like to recover it."
He stares intently at either figure, getting a closer look at each detail of the two. The dark didn't seem to have any effect on his vision, although it was hard to tell from behind a blank mask.
"Sure, luv," she said with a soft chuckle, and motioning with a tilt of her head for Kethyr to move away from that spot she positioned herself so as to be the first in line should anything turn foul. She may have loved action, she didn't love needless violence. She tilted her head and noted the bow on the ground as she moved away and tried to make an attempt at small talk, "Ah, a compound bow, mate? Faaancy, don't see that often. A bit cumbersome though up close, got any favorite-"
She makes the familiarly comical hand motions of guns making the iconic "bang, bang" as she continued to move out of his way.
A hunter nonetheless. What was he hunting? Kethyr glanced at Eurydice for a moment before continuing to watch Lewis's every move.
He leans forward again and begins to dig again, quickly uncovering a large metal box, which he grabs by the handle and pulls fully out of the earth. It was heavily similar to a rifle case, but much wider. He considers opening it for a moment, then kneels down and grabs his belt off the ground.
"Thanks. Bye."
And with that, only pausing to grab his bow off the ground, he walks away, into the shadows once more, obscuring himself as he does so.