[IC] The Wyld Hunt

[Kohananinja]

Now he was laughing at her?! Aly seethed, cheeks flushed with anger as the giant dismounted from the beast. Even if his face looked disarmingly pleasant, the jovial manner he held while trying to kill her was unbelievable, and only seemed to fan the flames of her anger further. And then he bowed, which was baffling to her as he allowed her to stand and talked of dancing. Was this thing bipolar or simply toying with her? She was quickly answered by the sight of a particularly sinister looking bronze sword, and once again found herself ducking from the fey’s intended fatal blows. She supposed she knew what he was getting at by the dancing comment now.

“Do you always try to decapitate your dance partners, or am I a special case.” Aly asked glaring as she took a shot at the fey’s ankles with her tree branch, though she was doubtful about what good it would do her. She was trying to fight back against a magic murderous giant with a stupid stick. These odds were hardly fair, but she doubted this thing cared about that, and the accusation shone clearly in her eyes.

[vasa o souls]

All at once the gentle burning turned into a searing heat. It emanated from this woman to Fein through the kiss and everything began to hurt, a pain far worse than anything he had ever felt. He tried to break free to scream to do anything but couldn’t. He felt an energy flowing to him something he couldn’t quite explain. Soon he no longer could see the world around him and the flashes in his vision became more coherent. Visions of some unknown time and place, of this lady, Irridihwe, and someone else, a man flashes of plots and love and hate, feelings and emotions thoughts of betrayal. Fein couldn’t make a lot of sense of it but had clear visions of what he assumed was the dark lady’s past. During this time at some point he had been released from the kiss and woke upon the ground as the lady walked away.

Fein lay there with every muscle in his body burning as if on fire. He was in pain but could not find his voice to scream. After what seemed like eternity Fein found his legs and regained control of his body. He pushed himself up of the ground and struggled to his feet. He stumbled but caught a tree for support. What did that bitch do to me he thought. He pushed himself of the tree and moved away from where he had been caught.

As he bounced form tree to tree he realized that he could see better than before. He looked to the sky in the hopes that it meant it was almost sun rise but the moon was still low in the sky. He realized that the encounter with the fey only took about 5minutes and he was no closer to surviving the night than he was before. He heard a scream in the distance and a booming laughter and many other sounds of the night that he had never noticed, or heard before. He stumbled again from tree to tree not really knowing where he was going. Fein soon tripped and landed face first in a stream. The stream seemed to cool the burning sensation throughout his body. Fein rolled over and laid in the stream for a moment as the water seemed to take away the burning pain, after a few seconds he realized the pendent around his neck was still there, Good luck charm my ass he thought but could not bring himself to pull it off and throw it away. After almost a minute in the stream Fein felt well enough to move. He tried to get his bearings, he decided that if head headed back towards camp maybe he would find someone else he started off in the direction of camp and within a minute was back, he thought it was odd that he was so close to camp he could have sworn he was further than that. He shrugged and hid behind a tree at the northeast side of camp. He didn’t see any movement in camp and decided to skirt the camp and try to find the path that the largest group of people had taken, he would love to find Aly and the others right now he would even be happy to hear Flynns voice at the moment. It didn’t take him long to find the trail on the western side of camp. He began to follow it slowly and listening very intently for anything human or Fey. He also kept an eye out for anything that could help him fight the fey.

[Angellicady]

The woods where Marra walked were filled with mist. Tendrils of vapor drifting slowly as they lapped against the branches of trees. Marra's face shaped an impish smile as the sound of footsteps on a path reached her ears. She loved to play with the humans and Marra had been late again. Marra loved the hunt but she had never made it on time, something shiny or fun always caught her attention and sometimes she missed half the play time and was sad. Marra's gentle smile got bigger, she had found a human so fast this time even though she was late.

The mists swirled around playfully and began to spread out. In a lil bit of time they covered the path the human walked on. It would be hard to see well even with night vision Marra became one with the mists and her body faded as one cloud of vapor joined another. The mists swirled around the human. Marra made a hand solid for a second and brushed it across his neck before it faded again. She giggled. The soft sweet laughter coming from all around in the mists. Another hand made from the cool mists gently prodded the man's arm as a voice whispered into his ears. A light and breathy voice of a girl child wanting to play. "I want to play, do you want to play with me?"

Marra made her face form out of the mists a few inches from the man's face. Her face set in an innocent expression, bright eyes and a warm playful smile. "I have not had anyone to play with in 300 years, it has been against the rules." Marra's face fell before brightening again "But now I can. What is your name? I'm Marra."


Rachel frantically pushed the power button on her I-phone. It had not worked since the attack on the camp and the panicked running through the woods. Rachel had been stunned with terror as the giant man who looked a lil like a tree and the other fey had appeared. She had stood there like a deer in headlights until something hurtled past her shrieking and killed the girl next to her. Rachel had run then as fast as she could. Rachel had no idea where she was now but she knew she had to keep running. Why did my parents send me on this trip. she thought angrily as she climbed over a log and slipped.

Rachel landed on a muddy patch of ground. She looked down at herself and sniffled. She was being chased by fairy tale monsters, had seen people killed, could not call for help, and now her nice clothes were ruined too. Feeling bitter Rachel pushed the power button one last time. This time there was a lil flicker of light as it turned on. "Yesss!" Rachel cried out happily before clamping a hand over her own mouth. She had to call for help.

Rachel had just dialed the first three numbers when the phone turned off again. She could hear sounds coming closer. Rachel turned and ran again trying to brush some of the mud out of her clothes as she did so.

[The Darklord]

The dread mount staggered as it struck the staff of wood thrust between it's legs. It pitched forward and collapsed towards the ground before suddenly vanishing as the Lord Illisar was hurled forwards off his mount's back. A harsh clanking noise and several snapping sounds heralded the Shrieker in the night's collision with the ground. For the briefest second it lay, great metal mask pressed face first into the ground, and armored robes sagging around the creature's thin frame as it lay there. Then a hiss of rage erupted from the thing and the Lord Illisar regained his feet moving with the inhuman grace of a predator. The spear which he had driven into the shoulder of the shapeshifter had vanished when he had fallen and for the moment the Hound of Darkness bore no weapon.

Mud smeared the front of the great helm but the strange metal was unscratched from the fall, and the functionality was clearly unimpaired as the clicking noise of the mouthplates opening to show the Lord Illisar's terrible maw sounded.This shapeshifter had not simply died and had dared to strike the dread mount. The hound of darkness was not amused by what had just occurred, though as it's inhumanely long tongue snaked out of the terrible mouth and tasted the air the scent of blood was clearly present. It was a delicious smell, nearly human, and the Lord Illisar's tongue ran over his diseased and putrid lips that the last few drops of drying blood still dripped from.

The Lord Illisar raised a hand and the air shimmered above it, darkness pulsing as if it had a life of its own and flashes of blood red light flickering within that darkness. The Light show ceased and when it did the Hound of Darkness bore a sword, and a strange sword indeed. Black glass shimmered and sickly red veins of crystal ran through the black glass that made up the sword. The whispery and sinister voice sounded in response to the shapeshifter's taunt as the champion of lady darkness spat upon his blade diseased and noxious fluid dripping down it. "Both Masks. Hidden are. Truth Vieled. Blood. Human. Feasting taste. Kill. Death Feast. No hidden."

It slowly moved towards the shapeshifter, and a low hissing noise emanated from the terrible maw. An almost melodic sound. The Lord Illisar suddenly cocked it's head to the side and turning away from the skinwalker shrieked once more at the two humans who were returning. This Shriek directly focused on the two humans would pack more punch in terms of the terror than those before it had. Turning back towards the shapeshifter Illisar leapt forward and seemed to blur as he did so. The strange sword swinging in such a way that it would cut the skinwalker in half at the waist if it struck.

[vasa o souls]

Fein continued walking towards his goal when a sudden chill ran down his spine. the air around grew thick with fog. a fog so thick he could have cut it, he began to reach for his blade when something brushed his neck, his mind screaming out that this was another of the fey things trying to kill him Fein grabbed his blade and prepared as best he could. As he turned to try and run back towards the camp something taped his shoulder and a little girls voice sounded in his ear. "I want to play, do you want to play with me?" the voice said.

he took a few steps before a face appeared in front of Fein's a few inches from his nose. Her face set in an innocent expression, bright eyes and a warm playful smile. "I have not had anyone to play with in 300 years, it has been against the rules." Marra's face fell before brightening again "But now I can. What is your name? I'm Marra."

a few hours ago this might have startled Fein but now he half expected these damn fey to pop out of the trees without being able to see them. Fein was ready this time but not for what she said. baffled Fein replied "my name is Fein. it's nice to meet you Marra..." thing quickly now he continued talking to this child like fey. "sure I'll play a game with you but I want to choose the rules first, and you cant kill me unless you win. If you win then you can kill me with a fight." Fein finished, he had a plan and his knife was tight in his grip in case this fey tried anything.

[Angellicady]

Marra smiled brightly when the man introduced himself as Fein and said he would play. "It is nice to meet you too Fein". Marra made her hands form again and she clapped them happily. What Fein said next made her face narrow in confusion. Marra's eyes narrowed a lil bit in real looking surprise. ""Why would I kill you?" Marra's face tilted to the side and she giggled. "I can not play with you if you are dead silly." Marra was happy, she had been lucky and found a human who wanted to play and found him fast.

Marra saw Fein's blue lips then and her face fell a lil and Marra stopped talking. She would not be able to play with her new toy for very long. The Unseelie Lady Irridhwe never let anyone else touch her chosen for long. Then Marra's eyes widened and her smile came back. She would play a new game tonight. Marra made herself fully solid and grinned impishly at Fein. "I think I know what we can play." Marra nodded quickly. "We can play 'do not let you die to the crazy blood drinking lady', daddy always says that she thinks too much of herself. We can have fun and make him happy at the same time." Marra twirled in a circle. Her misty clothing fading in places as a phantom breeze pulled at it showing a lil more than it normally would.

"And I promise I will not kill you Fein..." Marra tilted her head with a pensive face. "Well unless it is me killing you or her killing you. She really kills you humans." Marra frowned sadly at the thought of all the broken toys. "I just enjoy having company other than my family for a lil while, they are all so boring and un fun you know." Marra giggled and nodded happily.

[Harlequin Smile]

Scrabbling back further, Jack couldnt suppress the grim smile that crossed her lips as Illisar toppled from his mount and ground face first into the dirt. A grin that faded as the fell warrior slid back to its feet, spitting with rage. A grin that was replaced entirely with disgust as Illisar's mouthplates ratcheted back into its helm, and Jack found herself staring deep into the things putrid maw.

She shuddered as its tongue slithered from between torn lips, tasting the air, tasting her scent, with obscene glee. Its spear had vanished, as had the hellish horse it rode, but the skinwalker still had no misconceptions about whether she could beat it in a fight. There was only one way this could go if she decided, stupidly, to try and beat Illisar one on one. Worse was that the men were getting closer, fast. If they got anywhere near this, this abomination, then their deaths would be as swift as hers.

The dread rider raised one hand, once again calling on fell energies. Tongue flickering, the air around it warped, darkness coalescing around its fingers into the shape of a sword that dragged at the corners of her mind just looking at it. Pressing a palm to her aching shoulder, Jack blinked twice, judging the distance between Illisar, her, and the two 'heroes' charging headlong into their own deaths. She had a few seconds, maximum. Staring straight into the hellish visage of the creature, she started to murmur under her breath, a stream of syllables that would rewrite the fates, and maybe, just maybe give her a chance to escape. The magic took but a moment to call, its last words hissed, full of desperation, and Jack winced as she pushed a finger deeper into the wound, a single drop of blood falling from her fingertips, staining the grass below crimson.

Kicking from the ground like an Olympic sprinter, she launched forward, haring past the hunter and heading towards the boys, fast as her feet would move. Eyes wide, face urgent, she shouted out to both of them.

"What are you doing! Come on, run!"

In truth, this bodies failure had done her a favour. The blood dripping from her wounded shoulder was tainted with Illisars weave, stamped with his unique signature, and through that, Jack could twist his perception of truth, if only for a moment. Though she'd sprinted past, panting for breath and screaming her head off barely feet from him, if her skills held he would have seen or felt none of it, senses betraying him for scant seconds, imagingin her just standing there, long enough to for them get a head start and give her the time she needed to put together a real plan. Feet pounding the earth, she hoped the illusion held long enough, because it probably wouldnt work again...

"Dost thou not have a trophy to fail to win."

The barbed words echoed in Serra's mind as he watched his sister, cold eyes examining the studied ease with which she moved, the aloof gestures and detached questioning covering the storm that roiled behind that facade. They had never been able to truly hide anything from each other, each of them instinctually feeling, rather than knowing, the others intentions. His eyes closed, slowly, languidly, breaking the connection between them as the Lord of the High Court took an unnecessary breath. To have been away from her for so long, and now to be in her presence again like this, the two of them focused so intently on each other, called up a host of memories, not all of which were welcome.

"Lose the hunt?" Serra's smile spread, beatific below still closed eyes, tones honeyed. "Come, Irridihwe, dont be so foolish. I care little for such trivialities as this. This is but a priviledge for my courtiers, nothing more." He paused, drawing the silence out to the point of discomfort, the next words flowing from his mouth like so many rose petals, hiding the thorns beneath. "Our entitlements are earned through blood and through heritage. Of all in the three courts, you especially should know this."

Both eyes snapped open, fixing her again with the full force of his radiance. "As for your other question, do not think to play at ignorance, milady. I know what it is you hunt for on this night, and it will not stand." In truth, it was but a suspicion, the intense focus Irridihwe had given those humans who seemed to be mated, her marking this human before them without hesitation, was markedly unlike her usual play. She had always taken pleasure in the taking, the seduction of her targets, slowly infiltrating their minds, baiting with temptation and promise until they could think of nothing else. To take with such brute force, such lack of finesse, meant she had a need, an urge that had to be slaked tonight. Through provoking her, Serra hoped that she would lose herself for a moment, say more than she intended to, perhaps inadvertently explain what it is she was truly hunting for.

His gaze turned from hers to the human, now staggering as he pulled himself to his feet, pain writ large across his features. Obviously the gift he had been given was far too much for his pathetic body to control. Contempt written across his own face, ignoring the man as he stumbled away from them into the darkness, Serra turned his attention back to Irridiwhe.

"Truly, it is no business of mine what it is you do, but would, do you think, the Erlking approve of your scheming, my darling sister?" This last was more threat than question, Serra's voice low as thunder on the horizon, and promising just as much. In truth, no matter what Irridihwe planned, Serra would never involve the King of the Forest, but it was this, the involvement of another authority between them, purposefully distancing himself from her again and invoking the wrath of her jealousy, that he hoped would push her into irrationality, into making a mistake. Trap set, he fell silent once more, awaiting her response.

[vasa o souls]

When Marra formed in front of Fein from the mist he realized that she was actually a fully grown person, though she seemed young compared to the rest of the fey. he was slightly mesmerized by her clothes as well which appeared to not reform or maybe to be made of the mist. Fein also eyed the blade on her hip that seemed to flow like water and smoke mixed together. Fein was simply dumbfounded that this fey didn't seem to want to kill him, though he wasn't sure if he could trust her the only words that came to mind where "ok let play that game" he looked around and thought for a moment before turning to Marra and saying " if where going to win this game then I need something to defend myself from her. she wasn't afraid of my knife or the rowan pendent I wear, do you know of something that might hurt and scare her away a little?" he asked the question expecting her not to help him find a weapon but it' was worth a try in his mind.

After asking Fein started looking around and listening making sure there were no other fey around he was hoping this one would keep her end of the bargain but he would never trust her completely. He would however play along for now and had half a mind to kill her if she showed any signs of changing her mind on the deal. before she could respond to his first question he added "how bout we make this better and keep me alive all night no matter who shows up, if we win I may come out and play with you again." he thought for half a second to ask who her dad was but figured it didn't quite matter and his history and supernatural questions could wait till later if he survived. as he wait for a Reply he kept a very close on on her weapon.

[Angellicady]

"Yay" Marra exclaimed happily and clapped her hands when Fein said they should play that game. Her moving caused her misty clothing to swirl around a lil more as well. Marra nodded slowly when Fein talked about needing a weapon. She did not really like weapons but this game would probably need them. "I would let you borrow my sword" Marra said softly, "But I am the only one who can touch it." Her face fell a lil bit. "I will show you." Marra slowly reached down and gently slid her sword free of its sheath. Strange patterns danced along it as Marra bent down and put it on the ground. She stepped back a lil bit and smiled awkwardly at Fein. "You can try to pick it up if you want." She nodded. If fein tried to pick up the sword it would be just a shape in the mist when he tried to touch it.

"But I can help you find a weapon." She nodded and grinned impishly at Fein. But before Marra could say anything else Fein said more. "Of course silly." She giggled and stuck her tongue out again. "It is not much fun if the game ends fast. I will keep you alive so we can play." Marra smiled brightly and twirled around playfully thinking. "Hmm, oooh I know!" Marra nodded her head quickly, blue eyes glowing. "Iron would work for a weapon. You have a lot of Blacksmith forges around here do you not?" Marra seemed delighted at her idea. Her face suddenly colored a little she finally noticed Fein staring at her clothing. "Do you want me to look different? I can change if you want." Marra smiled as she said it.

[vasa o souls]

When Marra reached for her blade Feins grip tightened on his own little knife until she placed it on the ground saying that she would let him borrow it but that only she could pick it up but he was welcome to try. As she moved Fein noticed the clothing swirl around her body as if they were liquid it was almost mesmerizing. He reached for the blade on the ground but to no avail, his hand seemed to pass right through the weapon as though it were a mirage.

"But I can help you find a weapon." Marra said. Again Fein was surprised by this fey, she seemed so unlike the others, she was friendly for one and didn't want to kill him for another. Fein figured that she might be honest in intentions and lowered his guard slightly. She also agreed to help him stay alive all night which he figured was good. As she twirled round in place her clothes really did become mesmerizing Fein watched as the clothes flowed and twisted around her body and was only brought back to reality when she stopped and shouted

"Hmm, oooh I know!" Marra exclaimed "Iron would work for a weapon. You have a lot of Blacksmith forges around here do you not?" she seemed proud of herself and Fein was almost as proud of her as he was disappointed with himself, how could he have forgotten about Iron it was supposed to be a weapon against so many supernatural things.

It was then that she seemed to notice that he was watching her clothes and asked if He would like her to look different. Fein thought for a moment and decided that she was fine, and responded "no you look wonderful, I've just never seen a cloth such as what you where, it's almost like its made of mist and smoke mixed together in some for of liquid; I like it" he said as he smiled. "come on i know where there's a forge at the camp. lets find a weapon then i want to try and find my other friends. maybe they will play too" he said as he turned and looked around. "um can you remove the mist too please? I cant find my way in it."

[Irish Wolf]

The sharp crack of the ash wood staff, striking against the Erlking’s ankle, echoed in the confines of the trees. The thick pine bark of his boot protected him from any pain or damage but he politely made a small jump back, about half a step’s worth of space. Swinging his sword, he sliced off a small chuck of wood at an angle, turning the staff into a crude spear of sorts. Of course it really wasn’t much of a danger to him, as it was just an ordinary branch but maybe it would help the prey feel better about the dance.

“No” mused the Forest King, “Not normally. The Fairies tend to get annoyed when we’ve tried doing that but tonight is a special night human. It is the eve of midsummer.”

The expression on his face made it plain that she should understand just that the meant. Indeed, he remembered the bargain that the first men had made with the Fey kind, as if it had just happened a few hours ago. Then again, he was an immortal being, to whom the passage of years meant nothing. To the man-creatures about, they had long forgotten as the generations lived and died.

[wakeangel]

❧.¸¸.•°´'`°•.(¯´'•.¸(¯´'•.¸(❦)¸.•'´¯)¸.•'´¯).•°´'`°•.¸¸.❧

Irridihwe stood bathed in shadows of dappled night, the few soft tendrils of her shining dark hair allowed to escape her elegant upswept coiffure bobbed and danced on the silken breeze. Only a few feet, but long centuries separated her from Serra's mocking voice. So many conflicting emotions, enough to fill the forest and the human lands beyond with her own personal brand of madness, churned through her. Glimpses of terrible truths threatened at the edge of her awareness and she trembled with the effort of pushing at back, pushing it away until only an empty coldness, chill as the bay of a lone wolf to a crisp winter sky remained.

“Point of truth, Lord Seelie,” she intoned formally, maintaining her emotional distance by using formal titles as she glided with silent steps and the faint rustle of silk to circle warily around him. “Thou lost thy will for the Hunt before even I.” A ripple of anger marred the still pool of her mind at his insinuation that she only lead the Night Court because of her relation to the Day Lord, despite its truth for a variety of reasons, and her hands tightened from their graceful repose. But no, the slight flare of her nostrils smoothed out as she considered his attempts to bait her. Ever had he always been thus, teasing then, insulting now, outrageous little barbs to provoke a response- any response for him to analyze and dissect for nuggets of truth or secret. And always she fell for it. Not this time.

She laughed brightly, the sound ringing false even to her ears. Damn him! The calm pool vanished into the waves of a raging tempest barely held in check. How much did he know? How could he know? She had kept her own counsel on her plans for this evening, so the answer was simple. He couldn't. He suspected something and was trying to taunt her into revealing herself. Sly instinct asserted itself, calming the storm of her mind once again as she turned his ploy back upon him. Twin spots of color appeared high on her cheeks and her eyes flashed with ire, and aye, also with excitement.

“Of course thou knowest that which I hunt, brother. Humans. Just like every other fey privileged to do so this night. So which is it to be? That my Hunt 'shall not stand',” her mocking tone matched his, “or that it is 'no business of thine'?” She yawned as if bored as she spun shadows out in the darkness to hide her freshly marked Chosen's escape should any of Serra's hangers-on decide to take advantage of her perceived distraction. “Decide already, that I might be on my way.

“I admit to curiosity though, perchance what wouldest thou tell the Forest King exactly?” She taunted in a fair likeness of Serra's voice, had he the wits of a simpleton, “Uhh, excuse me your Highness, but my sister plans,” she paused for dramatic effect, “to kill humans tonight!”

A much truer, much freer laugh rang out into the forest this time as she arched a disdainful eyebrow at Serra and relished the battle of wits to come. He would not find her the same easily manipulated twit he remembered.

❧.¸¸.•°´'`°•.(¯´'•.¸(¯´'•.¸(❦)¸.•'´¯)¸.•'´¯).•°´'`°•.¸¸.❧

[Harlequin Smile]

The shadows wavered as Irridihwe strode around him, each barb coming fast on top of the last, her voice rising in confidence with each successive strike. In the centre of the circle of motion stood Serra, still as a mountain, and just as unassailable. His sisters rocking emotions had been painfully visible for the moment her guard had dropped, the anger clearly visible in her eyes, flashing pools of darkness that spoke of pain, loathing, and unimaginable longing, and Serra knew, not suspected, knew, that his words had found their mark.

Her mockery of his own speech brought his teeth flashing, as the Mistress of Night laughed loud and free, baiting him on, her expression challenging. And Serra intended to meet that challenge. Truly, it was the opportunity to indulge in sport such as this that had roused him from the willow throne, the chance once again to match wits with those who were almost his equal.

His hands raised, palms pressed together in front of his chest, as the laughter died down. Silver eyes shut, until once more the glade was steeped in silence, and only then did Serra speak.

"Come, Irridhwe, has it truly been that long?" In contrast to his sisters excitement, her triumphant counters to his probing questions, Serra's voice was cold as winter, and just as still. "The boy you saw fit to mark, you took with no grace, no elan. There is an urgency in you that I have not seen for some years, and I need not tell you the consequence of your last fell mood." Whether a trick of the light, or some other explanation, his knuckles turned a shade whiter, as if his fists were tensing involuntarily. "Or are the acts of times past things you have also chosen to deny?"

All humour had vanished from his voice now, the night itself seeming to hold its breath as the Lord of the High Court opened his eyes again, turning them from Irridihwe's pristine features. "Nevertheless, and as you say, Milady, I am done with you. This is," His voice twisted, harsh like the call of a magpie, "truly business of mine no more."

Without another word, the high lord span on his heel and strode from the clearing, radiant once again, leaving Irridihwe to stand in her own gloom. The night was young, and promised further entertainment. The spring courtiers bowed as he approached, averting their eyes from his majesty, carefully hiding their faces lest they betray any emotion over the exchange they had borne witness to. Reynard sank into a deeper bow, the briefest ghost of a smile on his lips as he glanced over towards the Unseelie Queen. Somehow, the aspect of spring doubted this meeting was quite finished yet. Raising his eyes, keeping his voice impeccably still, considering the circumstance, he asked the expected question.

"And now, my Lord? To where do we ride? "

[vasa o souls]

Fein waited a few minutes for the fey creature to do as he asked. As he looked around he noticed that he could “feel” the mists. He couldn’t explain it but he felt like it was more than just sight. Before to long though the fey opened the path through the mist for him, once he could see a way out he ran for the camp. “Iron” he said to himself “how could I forget iron” he ran flat-out to the forges at the camp. As much as he would like to have a knife he would settle for anything that could hit one of these things.

He reached the forges in good time they several where still smoking away from being used. Fein knew that they all had water near them he started by looking for water that he could drink. He had built a thirst and needed water, oddly enough he wasn’t hungry. He found water rather quickly then searched for a weapon. He looked for knifes or a sword or even a long bar made of iron.

[Kohananinja]

“What has that got to do with anything!” Aly screamed at the greenman, her frustration evident in her voice and eyes. How was she supposed to beat this thing, or at least escape alive. She was a god damned biology major, and granted she’d play football and other sports with her brothers, but she didn’t have any combat skills to speak of, and the giant was most definitely a warrior. “Is that what you things do for fun, murder?!” Aly asked after striking her stick and giving it a wicked point.
“Are you so jaded your power, that you somehow find enjoyment in murdering those weaker than yourself? Is killing all you know how to do?!” Aly took a hard look at his face, and seeing the obvious excitement there, was forced to believe it. How did he live like that? “God, I could almost pity you.” Aly said softy, shaking her head slowly.

“We can’t just leave her Flynn!” Adam shouted, still unwilling to leave Eve. Flynn however, was done with heroics, it wasn’t his department, and the girl had told them to run for the second time. He couldn’t help it if the bird was suicidal. Adam was also getting weaker, his breaths more labored, and grasping Adam by his good arm, Flynn easily pulled his away and ran. “She coming now, there’s nothing else we can do, just ran!” Flynn ordered, and so they ran. Flynn blocked the pain in his body, Adam’s labored breaths, even whether or not Eve was even close by. All that mattered to him was the river and escaping that voice, the one that promised pain and death the likes of which hell itself would envy. And then he saw it, and thought he might weep with relief.

[Harlequin Smile]

The sword gripped in Illisar's great paw slashed through the air, a hairs breadth from Jack's pumping arms as the creature flashed forwards, the air itself screaming in the wake of the beasts rush. That foul blade came down in a great, curving arc, but Jack was already gone, sprinting past her foe as he attacked what he thought was an immobile opponent.

"Yes!" She hissed, unable to contain her elation, though knowing even that single breath would be better served unwasted in pushing her onwards. Her illusion worked! Illisar had fallen for it. Even now as the weave broke, her magics dissolving into the ether, the fell warrior would see his prey falling, face twisted with pain, until it vanished completely. That might give them another moment, a moment that might just prove long enough. The elation on her face was replaced with hurt as the nerves in her chest twinged, phantom agonies wracking her body as the sympathetic feedback from so hastily woven an enchantment snapped back into focus. She took a great, gasping breath, almost falling as her foot slipped into a pothole. Idiot, she thought, Keep running. You're not done yet, and there's always a price.

The boys were up ahead, moving as fast as they could. Pushing through the pain, she sped up, bounding over a fallen tree, left arm tucked into her body, every movement spreading the crimson stain further from the wound in her shoulder. Still a few meters behind them, her foot caught in a twisting root, and the skinwalker fell, sprawling forward, unable to contain the scream of pain that burst from her as she slammed into the earth, hard enough to punch the breath from her lungs.