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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| This Animal I Have Become | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 16 2009, 07:55 PM (334 Views) | |
| James Ryder | Feb 16 2009, 07:55 PM Post #1 |
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“There’s a wolf in the complex!” Slowly lights flickered within the estate as candles were quickly lit amidst the screams of servants and nobles alike. A low snarling erupted from the slave quarters where a large, enraged wolf crouched, hackles raised. It was roughly two in the afternoon. Grey clouds dotted the azure sky, several of them covering the sun, making the earth below darker than it ought to be. The landscape that was Morrim was beautiful, although it was not perceived as such by the man who wandered its soils. His background as a slave ensured that there was a perpetually bleak outlook towards life, though mild. But that wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t appreciate the land’s beauty, nor the fact that he was finally free. Memories as recent as an evening ago, a week ago, a month ago loomed in his mind. There was also the pain. James screamed as excruciating pain rippled through his body. He was thankful there was nobody within the slave quarters at that moment – they were all finishing the remainder of their duties. Moonlight streamed through the open window, the shutters not yet closed. The burning sensation in his flesh had begun the moment the pale light had touched his pale skin, sending a fiery tingling sensation down from his bare shoulders where it had touched to the very tips of his toes. Crimson had seized his vision. The next thing he knew he was down on his knees, scream after scream tearing from his throat. And then… He was no longer human. He was afraid. Twenty-five autumns old and he was terrified. How pathetic was that? The transformations had occurred every single night, and apart from that first night, the night where the moon had been full was the most unbearable. Every single fibre of his being lost any and all humanity and, as the transformation was completed, he was distinctly aware that there was a hungering he had never known at the forefront of his mind. Now, even, it was there. He wanted blood. The blood of animals was not satisfying, either. It was enough to quench the initial hunger, but only human blood satisfied the real craving he experienced. James swallowed. He felt parched, just the thought of this new side to him made his stomach churn violently. To think that, only twelve hours ago, he had probably killed an innocent peasant or maybe a noble’s pet – someone higher in station, certainly, who had not deserved to die - disturbed him. He felt dazed. What had he done? Elongated, yellowed teeth gnashed at the slaves who entered the slave complex. The wolf was frightening: larger than any wolf they had ever seen, far more feral, and, though most would not remember in the morning, it had no tail. It stalked forward, a wicked gleam in its eyes. The slaves shrank back, terrified, and one began to scream hysterically. Several more, behind, ran into the throng of paralyzed people, laughing and jostling each other as if they had forgotten that they were at the mercy of their masters. The entire group staggered forward. The beast pounced, tearing into the throat of a hapless, older man. That was when the real screaming began. As if the spell binding them had been broken, the slaves turned and bolted up the stairs. But not before the wolf had slaughtered four of them. Two had been the laughing boys. The beast tore greedily into their bodies, annhilating them. James swallowed hard. It had happened a month ago, the fact that he wasn’t a real human suddenly rearing its ugly head. Pieces of the puzzle had vaguely fallen into place, although he still didn’t know what it all meant. What he did know, however, was that the phases of the moon dictated not only the pain he experienced during the transformations, but also how… human… he was during the evening. James paused, shielding his pale grey eyes as the sun appeared from behind the clouds. Where was he? His head snapped up from his work as he heard a low growling nearby. He was the last one outside, just after ten o’clock, finishing off his duties for the evening. His hands, gripping the wood for the fire in the morning, paused, his muscles tensing. There were no further sounds. He allowed himself to relax and began gathering wood again. That’s when the creature burst from the bushes nearby, tackling him to the ground. Before he could get his bearings, the beast tore into his shoulder, teeth lodging between his collarbone and his ribcage. A strangled cry erupted from James as he thrashed violently, fighting it. Shouting from across the estate rose and he could hear the sound of people rushing towards him as the blood pounded through his ears. Another scream bit the air as his thrashing only increased the pain. And then… the beast was gone. James whimpered. Several hands reached down and pulled him to his feet, several more wrapping around his body as they helped him to walk. “What… what was that?” he whispered quietly, dazed, blood gushing from the wound. Pain seared in the injury, spreading down the length of his right arm, then to his left, ripping through his chest as it moved quickly down his torso. He gritted his teeth together, trying to force his breathing to even. It didn’t help. They stepped into the mansion itself, which was completely dark. As the door closed behind them and a candle was passed forward, the pain eased. He was only vaguely aware of the constant throbbing in his shoulder. A gentle breeze tugged at his flaming red hair. Shivering, James huddled into the too-big black shirt that he had stolen off one of the men he had killed. The rusty scent of blood caused his nose to wrinkle, but he didn’t dare remove the garment. It was the only piece of clothing he owned apart from his pants, and the last thing he wanted to do was give it up. Even his scarred and bloody feet were bare. |
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| Deleted User | Feb 17 2009, 05:55 PM Post #2 |
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Running. It was all she could think about. She had lost track of time while she was running. She had assumed that the angry mob had lost sight of her and had given up chasing her. She gave a huge sigh of relief, but the tears just would not stop. She blindly wandered the vast open plains that were being washed by the light of the clouded sun, looking for a place she could call a sanctuary in this cruel world. Despite the overwhelming exhaustion that was slowly consuming her, she pressed onward without pause. It had only been a couple of weeks since her unexpected and unwilling transformation from human to…well, she didn’t know what to call herself yet, and already she felt she didn’t belong anywhere in this realm. She had been driven out by her family and friends, and everyone else was apprehensive about her appearance. It was her own new physique that got her into trouble in the first place; only a few hours earlier, she had come in sight of a group of humans who believed themselves as superior to all other humanoid races. They wanted to lynch her to set an example of that superiority. There was no reason to be seen in these humans. They chased her relentlessly, seeing only another inferior humanoid creature to kill. They didn’t care if she was once human; they wanted her dead for not being one. So she had run, hopefully losing sight of them in the process. Tears overtook her golden eyes as she slowed her pace, her vision turning watery and cloudy. She could no longer see the way forward. But she still moved on until she could bear to no more. Weariness overtook her battered body as she slumped down the side of a solitary tree in the middle of the vast plains. Her brilliant fur had been splotched with flecks of dirt and mud and several bruises hid beneath. Her crimson hair had been tousled with dead leaves. She stifled deep breaths of exhaustion out of her short muzzle and her cheeks were wet with tears. Sora, you must keep moving, a wise, concerned tenor voice echoed deep within her mind. The mob may have dwindled in number, but the few that are left are still determined to catch you. You must run! You must live! Sora nodded and stood, her weary toes supporting her trembling weight. No matter how tired she was, she had to get away, for her long, furry ears could pick up one or two voices screaming for her death. She then took off running again, but her vision was still clouded and burning with tears. She could not see the way forward at all; only blurred images of blue, grey, and green. Her right foot then caught on an unseen rock, sending a shock up her leg an sending her tumbling down a steep hill. Each hit she took put more bruises on her delicate form and sent pain reverberating through her mind until she finally landed unceremoniously at the bottom of the hill. Sora! Are you alright? the voice yipped, worry thick in his voice. Uh-huh, she thought back. Truthfully, though, Sora was not okay. How could she be okay after all she had been put through in the past two weeks? She had unwillingly transformed into another being, had a voice in her head, was shunned by her mother, and was being chased by bloodthirsty supremacists. If this kept up, she probably never would be okay in her lifetime. Sora, I know there are a lot of troubling things going through your head, but you need to focus on right now and keep up the pace. I'm trying, Tokala, Sora thought. She struggled to get up, but her body refused to allow her that. Thus, she began to crawl through the grass, a blunt pain going through every move she made. All nine of her tails quivered in protest. Tears stung her eyes and fogged her vision. She didn't see the tall grass she entered or notice the sun hiding behind the clouds. After what seemed like an eternity of crawling, she stood and made one final attempt to run. But her body just said no. All of a sudden, sleep was all she could think about. She collapsed unconscious onto the cold, unforgiving ground right in front of another passerby. |
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| James Ryder | Feb 21 2009, 05:25 PM Post #3 |
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((Just so everyone knows, Liron has dropped out due to lack of time. It's just the three of us now.)) Several scents erupted on the air, the wind drawing them directly to James' nostrils. His nose crinkled as a deep crease gouged his forehead - he didn't like the smells, especially the one that was drawing ever closer. He felt what little muscle he had tense, a combination of fear and apprehension. Suddenly a figure popped out among the tall grasses before, equally as sudden, it tipped forward and collapsed, at his feet. A low growl erupted from his throat as he glanced down. The creature was unlike anything he had ever seen before, more animal than human. An instinct that he had never known made him want to drop down to the earth and sniff the body thoroughly, but he resisted. There were others coming towards him. The scent that the wind carried was just as a disgusting as the creature's, if not more so, but it was distinctly human. It didn't take a genius to realize that the one at his feet and the ones fast approaching were somehow connected. What was he supposed to do? There was no way he would be able to carry the creature - as it was, he had hardly eaten in the past month. His body was thin and bony with only a small amount of muscular matter on it. He had enough strength to carry himself across the soils of Morrim, and just enough to withstand the transformations that came every single night, nothing more. But he couldn't just leave it here, either. If he did, the ones that were coming for it were likely to slaughter it - he could hear voices on the wind now, shouts that seemed garbled, but were steadily becoming clearer. The decision he was to make became clear, although he was highly uncomfortable with it. James stepped around the body until he was in front of it, almost defensively. His lips peeled back over his teeth as another growl emitted from him. A battle was ensuing internally: nineteen years of slavery versus one month of animalistic tendencies. Edited by MidnightShadow, Feb 22 2009, 07:48 PM.
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| Minno | Feb 21 2009, 07:31 PM Post #4 |
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The silence had been a blessing, permitting her some much-needed rest. An unstable and high-strung being at nature, any instance of peace was well savored, for it was never certain when such calm may again be found. The bulk of her troubles were indeed self-brought, but never would she change her ways to preserve the welcome relaxation- she'd simply have to enjoy it as it come. And it had come, for in her wandering she'd managed herself into the expanse of an open field, its midst flooded with the quiet that the forest could not have. Lured by the lack of voices- for to her, every creature-made utterance was considered spoken word- she'd wandered out into it, basking in its soothing silent grace. It had been earlier then, when the sun had still some freedom to pour itself out into the quiet heaven. Wary of its rays, but not detered, the shifter had adopted a form that lay beneath the grasses; out of sight from both seeing eyes and golden rays. It was in this peace that she had found herself a spot to lie, shielded beneath knotted grass and comfortably alone in a living desert. Animals that passed by were few and far, and for people she had not seen a one all morning. That was, not until, her blissful sleep were disrupted by a fallen body, whose form had erupted into her space in a noiseful racket that shattered the peace with no hope of returning. Raising her head above the mass of her coils, Minno regarded the disruptive creature with a distinct hiss. 'Have people nothing better to do than disrupt my rest? I'd swear on it! Goodness, what have-' From among the grass rose a serpentine head, its neck arched as it flicked its tongue out at the intruder in irritation. A snake, and one not small, was the form Minno had selected in her trek across the field. Low enough to the ground that the grass might serve its purpose as her only source of cover, it had been ideal, and curled up in a mass it had been equally as comfortable. Now, however, it was not so great for the purpose of dealing with the unwelcome body beside her resting place. Not so inclined to relinquish her form, the shapeshifter opted to rely on magic instead, and with her mouth gaping wide released a fireball onto the fallen female. She was by no means a forgiving creature, and less so to one that appeared as pathetic as this. "Damn you, you weakling damsel! Fall where you're not a disturbance next time!" The unconcious dealt with, she turned her attention to the greater shadow. This other being was male, and far less furry than the first had been. That he had not dropped himself nearside the shifter, and also had not felt need to speak a word that might have prior broken the blessed silence, the shifter felt less animosity to his presence. His stance, however, was noted cause for alarm, drawing her attention in the direction that he faced. Peering high over the vegetation that surrounded her, she sought the shouting source of the male's guarded stance, and at its approach let out yet another agitated hiss, then complained aloud to herself in a low mutter. "Oh, of course there'd be a mob. Life's not happy unless there's a mob." Her gaze trailed up to her irritation's "guardian", eliciting from her an unimpressed huff. No matter how many times he had growled at this point, she was not convinced that his scrawny form could handle the angry mass. Were she less drawn to his hopeless courage, she'd have changed form and gone off by then. The last thing she truly needed was to deal with a group of raving humans, but yet she felt compelled to give the boy a hand- if for nothing else, it would be in gratitude for having not been the cause of her waking. The relatively small creature grew large at an alarming rate, stating its new form with a roaring eruption. No longer a mere serpent, the predator stood above the grass with sharper-than-natural fangs bared. From her throat bellowed a mighty rumble, meant to deter the nearing group and send them back in a collective flee. On all fours and covered in grey fur marred by stately black stripes, the fearsome beast could be only one and no other name: a tiger, however grey her coat, held its place to James' back. Bare patches scarred the right side of her face around the grotesque hole of her missing eye. The present other stared straight ahead, fixated on the men that had dared to approach. Tail lashing, and claws extended, she presented herself as an open threat. They would be wise to turn back. |
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| James Ryder | Mar 28 2009, 09:56 PM Post #5 |
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((Considering that Sora hasn't logged in in over three weeks, and has had well over a month to post, I am going to say that his character was a mere peasant and is now dead, so that we can continue this thread.)) In a matter of moments several things happened. First, a snake had appeared, it could speak, and it had just ignited the body at his feet; second, as he glanced down at the smouldering remains, he realized that the female that had fallen at his feet was, in fact, dead. Swathed in furs, blood was now seeping from what James perceived to be a peasant. Looking at her, it was likely that she had been stabbed to death by those men and, in a last-ditch effort, had fled in hopes of finding refuge. Unfortunately, her wounds had been fatal (not that that would matter now, he thought with a violent shudder). Third, where he had first thought that the snake was just a snake and that he should avoid from it, it was suddenly transforming and morphing into something deadlier. His entire body froze when it became a tiger. James did the only thing he could think of: he bolted. Turning on his heels, he fled. The tall grasses seemed to part around him as his blistered feet pounded against the earth. Since the transformations had begun, he'd stopped wearing boots, and had realized that if he didn't remove his clothing beforehand, he would risk shredding it. Behind him he could still hear the cries of the enraged men, and the growls of the tiger-snake-beast-thing. As he ran he nearly tripped several times, stumbling on the uneven earth, but still managed to keep his balance. He didn't bother to look back - he'd done so several times in the past while running, and in each occasion had wound up being re-captured or caught in the process. So long as he didn't look back, he figured he was safe. Reaching a short outcropping of trees, James twisted around the back of them and leaned against one of the trunks. He leaned his head back, his chest heaving as he gasped for air; his eyes were closed and his hair was matted to his hair. He hadn't realized he'd begun to sweat profusely. Sinking towards the ground, he trid to steady his breathing while he listened for sounds of the creature and the men behind him. Nothing. He listened for several more seconds before becoming convinced that they weren't following. James relaxed and allowed his eyes to remain closed. Thoughts of finding the nearest town entered his exhausted mind. |
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| Minno | Apr 3 2009, 02:12 PM Post #6 |
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Four claws stretched from their concealing sheaths to dig into the soft soil that lay beneath her pads. Tail lashing and ears held back in warning, she was more than ready to make short work of the mass that descended upon them. What she was not prepared for, however, was for the male she'd so willingly stood beside to instantly bolt off on her, deserting her in the middle of the open field. With a grunt of disgust, she stood her ground, glowering at the men headed in her direction. There wasn't much use in taking off now- they'd only be more trouble later if she allowed them the chance. Bared fangs as her only forewarning, the massive cat parted her jaws again with a mighty vocal rumble, as a stream of fire erupted forth from her mouth. At first the blaze licked the air, shooting out towards the foolish group that throttled so angrily towards it, but it was soon to be cast along the ground, singing the grass and setting fire to the foliage. With a strong fire set upon the ground before herself, the feline turned with a tail-flick of satisfaction, grinning ever more horribly as the mob's rush fell head first into her craft. Stepping casually beyond the burning corpse, she took to the direction that the male had fled to with curious interest, although mostly with the savage intent to be certain of his regret for escaping her aid. Being left alone in the face of an angry mob was not her idea of fun. About halfway across the field she had determined that she would not burn the insolent runaway to a crisp. This conclusion drew about a pressing dillema: if not with fire, then how should she punish him for taking off on her? She supposed she could always bite him, and let fangs be the deliverance that got the message across, but she was not even remotely interested in even a nibble of his flesh. So yet then, if not by fire nor by blood, how was she to deliver her disfavor? It could not be, so simply spoken, that only a word could do? Never would she believe it- something greater had to be done. Pausing but a moment, the large four-legged body drew back on its hindlegs and aimed its upper body to the sky. In one quick spring the cat was in the air, forelimbs outstretched as her backlegs drew inward. Before her paws could reacquaint with the ground her form was fast upon changing, feline arms expanding outward as her body shrunk in. Feathers brushed the ground once the transformation was complete, and a grey hawk soared from its earthbound place to the sky ahead. Airborne, the shifter mastered the air with steady beats of her feathered wings, angling awkwardly through the air as she assumed her balance, and soon drifting gracefully across the final gap before the land gave way to a sea of trees. Still on the coward's trail, she flitted through the towering obstacles with sudden drops and sweeping ascensions. Her maneuvers were most unbirdlike, but a well-practiced form of evasion. A child of last-minute reactions, her flight was haphazard, if not, under the circumstances, masterful. She had never been one who thought her plans out any space ahead, and her flying only showed it. It was not after James that she directly head, but in deeper to where a pile of cloth did lie. Dropping beside it, the shape-changing creature adopted herself to a human shape before gathering the items to slip on over her nude form. Dressed in the only articles she had, which were suffice enough to cover herself for modesty's sake, she tied her weapon securely to her belt and slung the remaining item over her shoulder; she felt no need to adorn her cloak. Sauntering back the way she had come, Minno followed her senses to where she knew the deserter to have gone, and paused just out of sight as she came upon him. Behind a tree, she hid a smirk, before turning around its trunk with an indignant huff of air. "You've some nerve, taking flight like that. I've half a mind to give you a piece of it, but I ain't so certain you'd be able to withstand that sort of lashing." She crouched down several feet away, head tilted to the side as she took in a subtle inhale. Her nose wrinkled a bit as she processed his scent, already knowing beforehand that there was something she wasn't much welcome to about it. It was a familiar odor, one she'd known before, but its placement she could not seem to place with certainty. With certainty, however, she knew that it was not right. "So then... you tell me how I'm to punish you for ruining my perfectly good day, and we'll see where we get from there, shall we?" |
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| James Ryder | Apr 19 2009, 05:13 PM Post #7 |
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The sudden crackle of ever more fire reached his ears across the silent plain. Twisting around the tree with his hands gripping it in a white-knuckled vice, grey eyes widened in horror as bright, beautiful flames licked towards the sky in what was to become a towering inferno. Almost mesmerized, it was not as if he hadn't seen fire before, or so much of it, or that the scent of crisp, frying bodies had been something he'd been shielded from for the vast majority of his life. Where the fire had come from was his primary concern as he watched it, now warily, his grip on the tree increasing - if that was at all possible. Closing his eyes briefly, he turned his head so that he would be staring straight again, the gruesome scene to his back, his hold on the tree finally relaxing. It didn't take much to shut out the screams of the dying. He could worry about the fire later, when he either had to cross through it, around it, or had to put it to his back. For now... James nearly shrieked when the creature suddenly appeared. If not for the voice, he would never have recognized it- her. "Lashing...?" He seemed to fixate on the word as he cowered away from her, into the tree. Lashes weren't an uncommon punishment for a slave - in fact, where he had come from, they had been the most common. Starvation did little when a slave received hardly anything to begin with, so various forms of physical abuse had been employed. While James had been one of the more accepting and, dare one define it as such, better slaves, there were still scars up and down his back and shoulders, a few burn marks on his chest and scrawny arms. A shudder rippled through his body and he finally turned his eyes to stare at her. Up until that point he had been staring ahead, a film almost spreading across his irises. "They said that when you escaped the punishment stopped... The lashes and the burnings and the beatings..." A further string of unintelligble words were uttered from the slave turned free. A violent shivering gripped his body. As realization dawned, James managed to pull himself to his feet one small inch at a time, leaning heavily against the tree for support. Suddenly he broke away from him, staggered a few steps into the plain, keeping his body facing towards the creature - female - with his hands up, as if he had every intention of fighting her (and if it came to that, he would). "I w-will take no punishment from you. I... I have done nothing wrong. You should be punished for... for... burning those men alive, and that peasant. Y-you have no right to do that. To anybody. And you have no right to touch me, either..." Uncertainty was thick in his voice, but there was also some kind of miniscule determination. It was perhaps the first time James had ever stood up for himself since he had been sentenced to a life of hard work and slavery. Standing up meant being lashed, but here he was free and he was not going to be 'punished' by this aggressor. At least, that was the plan. His first instinct, as always, was to run. It was taking everything he had now not to. |
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| Minno | Apr 26 2009, 08:53 AM Post #8 |
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Curious head tilted further as she observed his actions, raising a furry brow in incomprehensive interest as he seemed to instantly quake apart just by her being there. Her casual choice of words certainly hadn't helped matters, as he lingered on them far longer than any normal human ought. Anyone else would perhaps had mocked her, thought her threats empty if nothing else, challenged her back... anything. Some would have cowered, sure, but this one took it too far. "What the hell are you on about?" Her eyes narrowed in confusion, for the nonsense he babbled seemed to spawn without cause. Was this one crazy? Or was there something she had missed? There was clearly something so terrible to endure that it could spawn such a submissive and cowardly creature. But what? He spoke of lashings and punishment and beatings... as though they were true fears. Had someone truly kept him that way? She couldn't imagine such a life. With a frown of concern daring its appearance upon her lips, the non-human arose and cautiously drew closer, cloak still slung over her shoulder. After a few steps, it slid from her fingers, and fell in a heap on the ground. At this point she held her hands out openly, to show that she wasn't armed, and stopped enough of a distance away that she would not be too much of a threat to him and that he was not one to her. Not that he was much of a threat to herself in the first place. Softly, she spoke, her tone even and words slow, as she made an attempt at censoring her usually unsavory vocabulary. "What... what did they do to you? Why do you quiver? I am a frightening creature, sure enough, but I doubt that is why you tremble." Although she had approached him passively, her frown lifted a moment into a cruel, but laid-back, smirk. Her fangs revealed theirselves before she spoke again, her tone changed to be almost mocking. "And... no right? I don't recall basing on right whether I could burn a corpse or not. Fact is, had I not, those men would have more than likely been on my tail, if not yours, and I'd've had to kill them anyway. So saves us all the trouble that I ended them then and there, no?" It took her a moment to catch her shift in personality, but by then the damage was already done. She had revealed her impassive nature in more gruesome detail than she should have admit, but it was just as well. He had already seen her blatant disregard for human life, so there was little use hiding the fact that she simply lacked the mentality to care. But he was fortunate, having piqued her interest with his bold, yet cowardly, actions thus far. Ever charmed by such hopeless contradiction, she lingered by him, much as was likely to his dismay. Her cruel and feral smirk dropped away as she focussed on him again, her expression falling to a blank stare as she sought something to remedy her unfavorable personality change. Her gaze drifted beyond him, to the field that held open the sky above it, and lifted upward to grit her teeth at its overcast. Dropping her hands to her sides, she fixed him with an apprehensive frown, and blew out a knowing breath. She had no reason to fear him, so she had no qualms with sharing with him her secret. "If you wanna bolt off again, be my guest. I'd suggest out in the open- that field. 'Cause it was sunny when I slept there, and it's threatening rain now. I know grey clouds. I hate grey clouds. I'll tell you something I'd guard from anyone else, because no matter how you raise your fists, I'm not gonna be afraid of you. I hate rain. I hate water. Because here in this body, I freeze all too easy. So if you're gonna take refuge, be where there's water. Because you're not worth my getting wet." |
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| James Ryder | May 3 2009, 08:12 PM Post #9 |
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There was a visible relaxation of tense muscle - of what little muscle there was - as the cloak fell away and the female's hands rose, held out towards him to prove that there wasn't a whip, a hatchet, a club, or some other brutal weapon lurking there. Her questions, however, lit curiosity within his own veins, for he had never met someone who didn't know what a slave was or the horrors of being one. Sure, most people turned a blind eye to it, ignored it, and claimed that that was just the natural order of things, but rarely did they not know that it existed. For most, seeing someone cower in fear of everything, of being emaciated with tattered clothing and greasy hair, was a fair indication that this creature was either poor, starved, or enslaved. For James, it was the latter. It would take more than a month or two out in the open fields to break old habits that had been engraved into his mind from his youth. "They... They beat us if we did not work fast enough..." The film had not left his eyes. "They would beat us if we were too loud, or if we spoke too often, if we didn't do what they said when they said it, even if we were already doing something else. If you asked for more food than they gave, or more water... they'd hit you. If you tried to help another slave... they would hit you. Everything we did... rarely resulted in rewards. Only punishment. I... You can see the lash marks on my back..." He breathed deeply. His shoulders had sunk, his body adopting a defeated position. When James finally brought his gaze to be level with that of the female's, his eyes were clear. His brow frowned. She had returned to the violent language that the slave drivers had used. He didn't like that. A ripple seemed to pulse through his body as his muscles began to tense again. James averted his eyes when she spoke of what would have happened to those men if she hadn't burned them. She was right, of course... Either way, they would have pursued their targets. And would probably have killed them too... If not that, then captured, and he would have been in the same situation he'd been in not so long ago. On some levels, then, he had to be grateful to this... creature. She had done him a small service, even if the brutality behind it and her words was quite evident. Shaking his head, he warily took two steps towards her. He mumbled a thank you, his eyes still cast to the ground. "If I ran... why would you follow? Why would you... care? I am not worth your time now... Am I?" The question was spoken with innocence. He'd never been worth anyone's time, not even a fellow slave's. Not when you could be beaten for trying to help them or save them. That he could be worth someone's time now had meaning, even if all he was was a body to be killed. That had more significance for him than being completely worthless. Slowly one of James' hands rose, shakily, held out towards her like he wanted to shake her hand. "My name is... is James. Ryder. At least, that's what they called me. Who are you? And why haven't you left yet?" |
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| Minno | May 7 2009, 10:41 PM Post #10 |
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As he explained, in meek terms, the fate that had befallen his life, her attention had held undivided and her eye fixated upon him. With each term of punishment, her body tilt ever further backward, and her brows and lips drew together in a sense of pity and disgust. She knew- yes, she knew- of the existance of slaves. But slavery, to her simple mind, had never gone beyond the caging that she had thought herself to dread most. It had never occured to her, for only that she didn't want to think about it, that there was anything worse besides steel bars. For one so afraid of losing her freedom, she never considered that there ever could be pain. For all the attention she had paid, there was not one phrase that caught her more than his last in that series, for her eye seemed to widen in blatant interest. Not desire shown in their brightened glimmer, but horrified curiousity. Her ears seemed to perk in interest, although trapped as they were in their limited human form. She spared a moment to mouth the words, as though disbelieving, and then spoke them aloud in a soft, still uncertain, voice. "Lash marks on your..." Yet still powered by that morbid curiousity, she took a step forward as though intending to look, but forced herself to keep back. Her focus settled on him once more, her own posture dropping as she regarded him with a frown. As harsh a being as she was, she was far from being heartless. The gaze that she beset James was one of pity, so far the extent of her minimal emotional attachment. Not that she did not know greater, but such was not the common, but more the blue moon of her night sky. As proud as she was, her expression read solemn, as she shifted aside two thoughtless steps. His mumbled appreciation was accepted with a tilt of her head and a shrug of her shoulders, not entirely certain for what he was thanking. At his approach, however, she raised her brow in mild surprise. She'd come to accept, as she just now realised, the condition this boy was undoubtedly in. It was not hard to see the timid nature behind his actions, nor the uncertain certainty with which he took them. The words for what he was were beginning to form in her mind, as an all-too-familiar feeling awoke inside her. "Why... why do I do the things I do? I hate that word, I really do. Because it is the one least like to have an answer." She ended the statement with a smirk, although misplaced as it seemed. His raised hand was cause to smile, but brought a slight frown to her lips as she raised her own arm- the wrong one- in an attempt to accept it. It didn't take long for her to realise her first mistake, but beyond selecting the proper hand she was at a loss for what to do with it. Deciding a proper angle, although marginally off, she grasped his hand with a sheepish chuckle. What a wonder it was to decide which was the more sheltered. "Ah... James. I am Minno." At his last question, she took her hand away in order to poke his nose teasingly. Her fangs revealed themselves in a bold grin as she accepted his questioning with a touch of humour. Dropping her arm back to her side, she took a wary step backward, and proceeded again with another chuckle. "How rude. Why haven't I left? Because I choose not to. I have that right. Just as much as you do. It's called freedom, and I'm quite fond of it." While her eye remained lit with a light-hearted gleam, the rest of her face took on a more serious look, as she settled herself to forming an honest and more fulfilling answer to his question. It was a bit much for her simplicity to mull over, perhaps, but she had little trouble in finding the words for it. "It was not you that had disturbed me, nor you to whose shouts I had awoke. You are quiet. When faced with danger, you still make an attempt to stand your ground, despite that you, as well as anyone else, can see that you are afraid. Granted, you're instinctive to run, and clearly tend to act on it, but that's not without saying that you do try." Both her arms crossed before her as she stared upward, thoughtfully, and soon returned down level to meet his eyes with her one. The joking light fled entirely from her face, but her lips still held upon them the hints of a reassuring smile. "You are as I was. Not a day goes by that you don't feel that sense of inferiority. That you are lesser than others and not worthy of their attention. With freedom on your hands now, you're struggling to take a proper hold of it. You try to bare your fangs and stand to protect your newfound gem. But it's not easy, is it? You hadn't the advantage I had of having known nothing but this gift... freedom, to you, is like that hand greeting. As an observer, you have the general idea, but not the paces to make it complete." She blew out a soft sigh, frowning now at the thought of it. Baring an inferiority complex was a challenge she had mostly overcome, but only by the revelation of pain had she earned it. In losing her eye, she'd come to realise her own strength, and took better confidence in it. What would it take James to overcome his own? With a telltale tilt of her head, Minno's gaze wandered to peer again at James' back. Inching forward, and a little sideways, her interest now refused to remain contained. She had to see it: the marks of a slave. "James? Might I see it?" |
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| James Ryder | May 11 2009, 03:01 PM Post #11 |
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He tilted his head as she seemed to struggle with the notion of a handshake. Sure, it was something that only merchants and nobles seemed to engage in, but why couldn't a lowly commoner - nay, a slave - do so as well? When she realized she had the wrong hand and put out the other, James decided to take the initiative. Reaching out further, he took her hand and rose it up and down. The handshake was neither firm nor strong, but it was a start. Somewhat surprised that Minno wouldn't quite know what it was, he asked: "You've never shaken someone's hand before, have you?" James flinched as she prodded him in the nose. He looked down, shocked further, and slowly lifted his hand to touch where she had. She obviously hadn't meant to hurt him - the wide grin on her face told him so, despite the menacing fangs that were also present - but he didn't quite understand what the gesture meant. As she spoke, he listened attentively, only interrupting her once and even then hardly doing so, murmuring the word 'freedom' uncertainly under his breath. There was no denying now that he was free - as free as he could be, of course, given the current circumstances - but the word, the way it formed in his mouth and the way it tasted... It was completely foreign, a dream he had never had. He supposed that he had one reason not to hate the creature he became each night; without it, he wouldn't have been standing here now, speaking to this woman. Having actually seen a change in her demeanour, she wasn't nearly as frightening as she portrayed herself to be. "I wonder if I'll ever be able to make it complete?" The question was more to himself than to her, but he almost half-expected her to answer. "When we talked about freedom and what it might be like, none of us really knew. Most slaves, when they are enslaved, are enslaved when they are young... I was. I came from a different continent... Esiria, I think they call it. For most of us this is the only life we've ever known. To dream about something you've never had and are likely to never have... There isn't much in that dream. I guess when you finally get what you want, you don't really know what to do with it or yourself anymore." A certain wariness passed in his grey eyes as he watched her inch towards him, around the side. "See what?" he asked, turning to face her, before recognition became clear on his face. "Oh... The scars." Rather than answer her and still tentative about turning his back to her, James pulled his shirt over his head and leaned forward, exposing the entirety of his back to her. The flesh was, to state it simply, hideous. Down the centre of his back his spine curved prominently, and Minno could easily have run her hand along the bones there, feeling each individual vertibrae. The same could have been done for his ribcage Criss-crossing in haphazard lines all across his back and arching over his shoulders, both long and short, were dozens of scars; some were simply maroon in colour, while others had become raised areas, paler than his skin's normal tone. And then, of course, several overlapped, appearing as though there was just one mark, until it deviated, revealing two overlayed against each other. "Were you like me?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Was freedom just a dream for you? Or have you always had it?" |
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| Minno | May 11 2009, 05:34 PM Post #12 |
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Upon his revealing his bare back to her, her remaining eye went wide. It was worse than she could have imagined; true evidence of a lifetime of abuse. No wonder he was so meek- that he had any sense to be bold at all was a wonder when compared to the story beaten upon his back. A horror for one that knew too little of the world to be acquainted with such ugliness, she, a murderous beast herself, was disgusted. And yet at the same time, that morbid curiousity dared to still linger. A hand extended forth, one finger pointed to delicately trace a scar before withdrawing. She drew away with a slow shake of her head, and motioned to James to cover it back up with his shirt. "That's horrid..." She leaned back and faced him, crossing her arms. The lightened mood seemed to flee from her face, replaced with a serious expression that carried not a hint of a smirk upon it. At the same time, she seemed somewhat worn; a token to the years her age neglected to reflect. It was the face of the True Minno, if one dared to call it that. "In your sense, yes... I suppose so. Though there has been more than one time that I've seen the worser side of bars. But there is something to be said for a free spirit such as I, in that it is terribly difficult to contain one that has never not had it. Why you were taken as a child, no doubt... it takes less to break one that doesn't know the other side." The snap of a branch drew her attention, momentarily halting her speech as her eye turned in the direction of the sound. She turned just in time to catch the fleeing end of a hare, taking off as though a wolf were hot on its heels. It was just as well it did, or else a wolf would have been just the thing close on its tail- Minno was all too attracted to a rabbit's tender hide. Her eye remained fixated, even after the creature had left her sight, like a cat lost in contemplating whether or not it was worth giving chase. It was not until she resurfaced from her animalistic desire that she spoke again, turning her head in sudden animation as she broke her gaze with the departed meal. "I hate cages. And chains. Anything that keeps me from being free, I do openly fear. Because, being a rarity, that is as much a concern to me as it is to you. But I find the trick in that is to deceive it... appear normal, so that none can tell the difference. It's some part difficult if you're not used to lying, but if you can get past that then you're pretty good. You'd have better luck than me, seeing as you're human enough already. All you need do is get that inferiority thing taken care of and I think you'd be right set. But that... that is a problem. I should know it." Still talking, as though she had never spaced out at all, Minno strolled over to the heap of cloth that lay upon the ground and retrieved her cloak. "I'd suffered the same thing; had myself convinced I were lesser than most anyone else. But the truth was that I wasn't. I could hold my own if I needed to... more than hold my own when it came down to it. Yet I was absolutely certain that I was weak, and that held me back. No matter what anyone said, I could not see my own strength. And that's what hurts you, because you can't ever be strong if you've blinded yourself to it." Her beloved cloak held in her grasp, she had made as though to wear it, before pausing thoughtfully with one arm pulled through its sleeve. She turned her attention back to James, head tilted a bit with her lips tugging backward in a faint frown. "Of course... it's not exactly something you can just will away either. Could try, but I don't think that'll do you much. It took me losing an eyeball to learn myself that lesson... pray be it that it don't take you the same." Pulling her cloak on all the way, she forced herself to smile, determined not to hurt the mood any more than she was already prone to. With both hands in her pockets, she strode back up to James, and raised one hand to wrap it about his shoulder. "Now I know I'm the rough sort- ain't take much to gather that I'm not exactly civilised. Truth be it, it took a boy four years to take me from the wild animal I was and get me this far. Hence why that handshake doesn't quite come naturally. But I offer you myself as an ally... any trouble you find yourself falling into, and if I can, I'll get you out of it. I mightn't be the smartest, but it doesn't take too much of that to fell a man." Without much more warning than a sudden smirk, Minno let out a brief chuckle, her lips broadening into a full grin. "Though, I'll hint you, if you want to take advantage of that freedom of yours... if I'm not around, you'd do yourself well to kick and scream. It's a mark of freedom, as I see it. Slaves will submit to holding. Free folk don't want no part of it." |
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| James Ryder | May 14 2009, 03:47 PM Post #13 |
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His entire body shuddered when she traced one of the scars. He didn't see her motion with her hand, his eyes squeezed shut, as if waiting for her to suddenly claw at him. When she withdrew, however, the shirt fell into place anyway and he straightened as straight as a slave could. He listened to her, knowing that what she said was true. From what he could tell, it was harder to break a grown man's sense of pride and freedom than it was a child's. And if slaves themselves had children, those children were expected to be taught how slave life worked, and were expected to act as slaves, quite contrary to their parents' desires. He'd had a fling with one of the female slaves once, but the relationship had not gotten very far before they had been separated and she had been sold off to another trader. It was just one more thing to make freedom taste just that much sweeter. James' head turned just as hers did, watching the fleeing rabbit. The same sort of feelings akin to hers surfaced quickly, but his were likely for an entirely different reason: he was half-starved, and seeing real, live meat darting by was like shaking a morsel of beef in front of an enslaved's face, daring them to take it, only to have one of their fingers sliced off. The man turned werewolf watched it flee just as she did, until it was long gone. By the time Minno had finally pulled herself from her reverie, James had already done so and, not knowing what assertiveness was, waited with the utmost patience for her to continue. Any normal person might have cleared their throat, nudged the other, or shouted a haughty "Get on with it!" but not James. "How did you lose an eye?" The former slave had heard all that she had said, of course, and was mulling it over - the whole idea of 'lying', presenting himself as something he wasn't, and being blind to his own strength (admittedly, he knew he didn't have any strength, or very little of it; living off of meagre rations for most of his life had ensured that he could only lift what was expected of him and nothing else). He was, however, curious with regards to her eye, for, up until that moment, he hadn't even noticed that it was missing. In fact, the realization seemed to surprise him. No slave had ever been missing any part of their body; if they had lost more than a few fingers, they were either sold to someone who could use them, or moved to a different job, likely in the slave trader's estate, where they could do other mundane tasks. From time-to-time one of his brethren would lose an arm, a leg, a hand, or an ear, and then suddenly they would just disappear. The first genuine smile since he had acquired freedom spread across James' face. He wasn't accustomed to someone's arm being around his shoulder, or to having an ally, but the feeling was... nice. Like he was important to someone, like there was more to life than what he had known for most of his life. "R-really? Is this what they call people in 'high places'? Or is that something else?" James paused. "Or... is this how friendship starts? Is this what having a friend is like? I wouldn't call what we had on the estate friendships... If it came to helping someone else... it never happened. Nobody wanted to be beat for someone else... "Kicking and screaming... I think I could try that." As long as he avoided the cities, however, what were the chances of someone trying to grab him, though? Eventually he would have to venture into one, he knew, if he hoped to have more than the scraps on his back. |
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| Minno | May 15 2009, 02:29 PM Post #14 |
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"How did you lose an eye?" How did she lose an eye! If there were ever a question she expected never to hear the end of. Not that she too terribly minded it, for now. But she still put off answering the question, responding to it with nothing more than a smile. The grin grew broader at his reply to her offer of alliance. He was, dare she say it, cute in a way. Child-like, even for one that surpassed her in physical maturity. To age past Minno was no difficult feat, particularly for human-kind, as her years were drawn out a hundred times longer than the normal man's. She had survived the world for nineteen hundred years by then, but in regards to her life cycle she was only equivalent, in human years, to one whom was still just a teenager. James likely couldn't tell, not just yet, and she didn't care enough on the matter to inform him. Instead, she beamed with a sense of arrogant pride, and took advantage of her close position to ruffle his hair. "Goodness did they keep you under a rock." No sooner she said it, she paused, thinking it over with her one eye peering absently skyward in thought. He did have a point, when she stopped to consider it. What was it now, this alliance? Was it friendship? She may have been out ahead of James, but that didn't make her much better socialised than he was- a drawback to being so overly tempermental, but she would be first to say that she prefered it. Minno didn't care too much for social interaction, she only wanted to be left alone unless her whims opted otherwise. The case at present was most definately an "otherwise". But still came the matter: was it friendship? Ignoring all the people that were all too frequent an annoyance in her life, her best comparison was to her best friend. While the dragon was perhaps an extreme case, Minno could see how the same attraction might apply to her recently adopted human as well. It had been only a brief meeting, but she'd quickly warmed up to James. Now it could safely be said that he was securely under her protective wing. So if she had to decide, then it was indeed the start of a friendship in the works. "I suppose it is... a friendship, I mean." Her tail flicked about behind her- indeed, her tail. Without warning she'd shifted to her natural form, with fur, wings, and everything that came with it. The two great appendages remained hidden beneath her coat, as did most of her long length of tail, but the fur and claws stood out in plain sight, adding an even more feral look than what was hinted by the fangs. Yet she seemed not to notice, dropping her arm from James' shoulders as she started in the direction of the long departed hare. Each step was followed by an eager tail-flick, as her greedy eye peered ahead in wild anticipation. But no matter how much she looked, no rabbit was to be found. "Hadn't thought as much," she grumbled, turning back to James with a frown. Why she still felt compelled to chase the thing, she couldn't honestly tell. It was just so tempting... She shook her head with a growl, raising a hand to rub between her eyes. What was getting into her head, that she was jumping at every opportunity for easy-going prey? First on that horrid island, where she'd found herself encaged, and now here, after a lone hare. It was ridiculous... she wasn't that much an animal to be driven so strongly by instinct, was she? "Tsh." Ignoring her own actions, Minno strode back to James with a shrug of her shoulders, as though what had just occured hadn't really mattered. Rather than allow him the chance to ask anything of it, she delved right into an answer to his earlier question, in respects to her missing eye. "Saw the better part of a dragon... and that's the last it saw. Hurt like bloody damned hell..." No sooner she'd started, she stopped, catching sight of her arm with a sudden perk of realisation. With a softer gaze, she looked to James, and offered a weak smile as a means of reassurance. She hadn't meant him any threat, hence why she'd chosen to be human in the first place, as it was considerably less beastly than was her natural form. "Ah, do pardon this. Seems I've absently become myself without my realising." |
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| James Ryder | May 31 2009, 08:25 PM Post #15 |
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James' head ducked down when she ruffled his greasy hair. The feeling of it couldn't have felt very nice against her skin, as he had not washed it with any sort of soap since he'd fled, and even then it had only received a washing at most once a week, at best usually two to three weeks. Even his skin itself felt grimey beneath his tattered rags, and he had hopped into a stream only a few days ago. James didn't want to think about the tangy smell that probably clung to his body, or what sorts of tiny organisms were roaming it. For all he knew he could have had lice, though it was usually the women and the men with longer hair that had gotten it. Pulling his fingers through his flaming red hair, he flinched. Maybe, if he visited a town, he could find a job, and then he'd be able to afford to wash more than every time he happened to find a stream, a stream that he would also end up drinking from... If nothing else, he was happy to hear that he'd made a friend, even if it was out of a woman who had initially scared him and who was clearly different than most people. But then... was he not different as well? Now, anyway. James' eyes followed her as she drifted in the direction of the hare, widening when she suddenly transformed. The appearance of fur and the elongation of claws that had once looked more like finger nails made this readily apparent, and a sudden fear rose in the slave's eyes and body language. He retreated a step, his hands raising half-way as if to protect himself. It seemed to take Minno several seconds to realize the transformation; she apologized and he nodded hesitantly, his arms slowly dropping back to his sides. Trust. That was what he needed to learn here. Not everyone and everything was inherently evil. The world was not out to re-enslave him (though on that point he wasn't entirely certain). "I-it's ok... I c-can imagine h-how much it hurt..." Looking over her, it came to his attention that she could transform, like he did, but not like he did, because she could do it on a whim. Despite his fear, which was slowly subsiding as he forced his racing heart and his whirling thoughts to calm, he could not help but wonder if she could figure out what had happened to him without knowing exactly what it was he was. The last thing James needed was to lose a friend because of what he had become. Like she, feral instincts existed in him now that had never existed, and probably wouldn't have, even if all he'd been was an escaped slave. "I... have a question." A long pause followed as he stared at the ground. "Or... several questions. What would you call someone who changes when the day becomes night? What do you... call someone who becomes something they weren't? It's hard to describe. I don't really understand it, but I've seen it and... I don't know what it is. But when it happens they become an animal, a little bit like a wolf and a bear, together. It... frightens me." Whether she would figure out that he was talking about himself or not was a concern, but it was one he would have to live with. If he could find someone who could tell him what he was, at least then there was the prospect of ending it. |
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| Minno | Jun 7 2009, 06:18 PM Post #16 |
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When he declared that he had a series of questions for her, he abruptly earned her full attention. Her one eye fixated upon him, her head tilted curiously to the side, and she listened intently as he posed the first inquiry. It was not until his mouth had formed the word 'wolf' that the dots fully connected. The beastly female alerted with perked ears and a widened eye, her head straightening as an expression of realisation made evident the epiphany that had only just hit her mind- none other beast of night could she know better than the one that he described. "Why, you-" Her teeth clenched shut immediately, a hand raising to scratch amidst her head of dark grey hair as she reconsidered her reaction. It would not have been fair for her to persist in informing James with raised fur, so she calmed herself, and forced herself to reply in a more reserved fashion. She took the question and answered it as plain as it was asked; impersonal, as though it were of no relation to either of them, but a thing that others had to deal with in some other time and place. Little be known how greatly it affected the both of them in truth. "You mean to speak of a werewolf? All manner of those, I hear. Ones that bay only to the full moon, and those that see to every night in beastly shape... some turn into a wolven man-beast, while others turn full wolf form. It is the bite that does it, and the moon that calls it forth. Not a monster men rightly fancy." Her gaze faltered, falling distractedly to her feet as she raised and shook a foot uncomfortably inside her improperly-fitted boot. It was an issue among shape-changers, when it came to clothing, for any article to consistantly fit- especially so when one's foot grew to be elongated in their non-human but still humanoid natural form; Minno's true self tread on its toes. The slight discomfort did not so greatly bother her, but it served its purpose in upholding the same sense of indifference- she would not alarm James if she could help herself. "Not so like myself, as you seem to have connected. I'm of a shifting race of varied form, whilst the were-kind are only between two. Also consider that my shifts are by will, rather than being under call. Doesn't mean any more nor any less that I deserve myself a frightened look... anyone would have as much a right to be afraid of me as they would of a were. I don't blame 'em... only pity the fool that doesn't." She ended the sentence with a contemptful scoff, brows lowering above narrowing eyes as she glared off at nothing more than a faceless thought. The many a clear fool that had still felt they stood a chance as her better- no remorse upon their bloody corpses, nor forgiveness for the path they took. Such were deaths well-deserved in her eye. With a blink she was back to the present, her gaze shifting back to James with a soft sigh and a faint frown. Evading the matter did not end it; her side-stepping was not doing either of them any favors. She made the decision then to be straight with him, because she felt no kindness in avoiding it. "It's called a curse for a reason, James. And the problem is that there's little known in ways of being rid of it... that's apt to haunt a man until his death, if not be the very cause." Her shoulders sunk as she released a heavy breath, as though burdened now by mild exhaustion beneath a burdening load. Just the thought she would sooner not consider- it had been so long a time since last she had seen him, if the curse he had befallen had gone on to claim his life, what forgiveness would she give herself in knowing that she had not been there to save it? Despite who he was to the rest of the world, he was enough to her that his life was worth her sacrifice. If ever were she to know his unattended fate, she could very well stop her own existance in that very knowing moment- in one fashion or another, be what came at that forbidden time. For the unwarranted depression, she proceeded to inform James of its cause. "I knew one at a time whom had befallen such a spell... it was no pride for himself to be one. A danger, in fact, and we tried the extent of our knowledge in removing it. But we found no success... to this day, he may yet still be that monster. And here I wouldn't know it, having been apart for quite the time." She grit her teeth at the end, glaring at the ground almost hatefully. It was clear, despite its direction, that that anger was for herself. "I resent it. I should still be there!" |
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| James Ryder | Jun 8 2009, 11:16 AM Post #17 |
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James flinched away from her as her hand rose, staggering away several steps, his arms over his head. He cowered away from her until she began to speak and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, his arms lowered and his head straightened, his eyes shifting to look at her. He didn't dare come closer to her, but he did listen, his eyes dropping to the ground. So, that was it then. He was a monster, a monster who was unfortunate enough to have been afflicted with a type of werewolfism that forced his body to transform each and every single night. He was also a danger to the rest of society during the night then, and having had at least one full moon cycle to experience it, knew that his mind was more animalistic some nights than others. It was those nights that he feared the most now, for he could not control himself, and the less control he had over his own mind, the more inclined he was to run the opposite direction from humanity, into the midnight sun. Except that, if he did do that, he'd never be able to forge a new life. At least as a slave he had something. As a werewolf, he had nothing. "What... what do... w-werewolves eat, M-Minno?" People was the first thought that came to his mind, and he was almost certain he knew the answer, but he wanted to know for certain. When the slaves had felt particularly rebelious they would talk during the midnight hours, telling ghost stories. Most of his comrades had spoken of vampires, and he knew that they preyed on people, and ghosts and goblins and banshees, among other wicked creatures. Werewolves, however, had never come up. So that is what I am... he thought. James' eyes remained averted from Minno's, and for all she knew, he could have been avoiding her because of her near-outburst earlier. I am... cursed. I was cursed from the day I was born, from the day my mother and my father couldn't protect me from the men who found me and took me away to this place. The wolf that bit me... it was a werewolf too, then. I've never been bitten by anything before... No cure... And death is all that I have to look forward to. Death by my own hand, death because of what I am, or death because of what I've done. Death, no matter what happens. To this he held back a sigh. He wasn't exactly young - twenty-five winters was actually considered old to most, it seemed - but he'd always hoped to have a life after slavery. It was never really meant to be, was it? "W-why don't you go f-find him, your f-friend? I'm sure he's out there somewhere... M-maybe he's still looking for you." He paused. James was looking at her now, mixed emotions in his eyes. It was hard to tell how he felt. He didn't comment on what she had said about the race as a whole - if he was going under the pretense that his friend suffered from the affiliction, there wasn't much he could say to identify. "Th-thank you for telling me th-that... I was just curious, is all... Strange things happened to the slaves in the c-compound sometimes." For once, James was glad that he had the other scars on his back. It made the one near his throat, at his collarbone, appear almost normal. If the slave had suffered in the past, it was likely that this particular wound had just been a stray whiplash, or a fight with a slave, or a fight with an animal. In any case, it couldn't be targeted as a werewolf bite. "Is there somewhere where we could g-go?" James asked, looking about the field and the trees around them. His voice had finally begun to steady again. "My feet hurt... And I haven't eaten in a few days..." It was a simple request: set up camp and eventually part ways. He wasn't sure what he'd do when night rolled around, but he'd think of something. When the time came. Edited by James Ryder, Jun 8 2009, 11:16 AM.
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| Minno | Jun 13 2009, 09:29 AM Post #18 |
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Minno frowned at his question, as well as his stuttering. He certainly was taking undue interest in this one particular subject. Her mind drifted a moment to the odd scent she had picked up off of him earlier, but she was quick to dismiss it, still not making any connection between it and whatever source of familiarity that made its thought so much a trouble. Rather than dwell on the unidentifiable, she pondered over his question. Brief memories flashed into her head, short recollections of conversations years passed, and the last time this topic had ever breached her ears. Absently she muttered aloud, one discussion in paricular standing out in her mind. "An entire flock of sheep... plus the farmer..." It had not bothered her then, and it still failed to disturb her now. Even with the change that she now knew members of her own race, the thought of eating her own kind hardly began to churn her stomach. Death, to her, was all around equal, and if need came to be that cannibalism was a necessity, then she had no qualms about going for it. His issue with the matter was still unclear in her eyes. "Everything, I suppose. If it moves, breathes, and makes noise, then a werewolf would probably eat it." She shrugged, indifferent to the idea. It was no wonder, however, that she would not be opposed to it. Her own diet was roughly similar, though more dependent on the blood than on the meat. "Food is food." She crossed her arms before her, casting him a sideways glance as he asked about her "friend". Now was not that just a killer? Why did she not go look for Zane? If she put effort into it, she could possibly find him, rather than wait to see if their paths ever again crossed. It was foolish to be waiting as she was, but yet she could seem to do no different. What was she afraid of? Time stood out as a prominent reason. The years since she had last seen him felt long, and she could only guess at the actuality of it. What had it been now, seven winters? And yet, though she was not certain, she felt as though she had only completed an age. Where they had been so close before, he was older now, and she would not see another year before his death. Slow age seemed a curse far worse to her than a werewolf's bite. "I should look for him... but I think I fear what I may find. He will be older now... so much older... and I have been grotesquely scarred..." She frowned, her right hand touching lightly at the strip of cloth over her vacant eye socket. "Would it be fair to still ask the same of him, when so much has changed?" Her remaining eye shut as her lips parted to release a calming breath. Whether or not it was fair to Zane, her falling apart would not be fair to James. He was already so delicate, she would not frighten him off by breaking down herself. Forcing a smile, however sad it still remained to be, she stuffed her hands into her pockets and strode up beside him, bumping him with her shoulder. "'Nough of this, huh? Nothing more of 'wolves and past regrets." She hummed a bit, leaning intrusively against him without much of a care. In her warped idea of social interaction, invading one's space and sense of comfort seemed to be an ideal way of lightening the mood. Atleast for her, it was working. "Alright, lessee... where could we be off to, I wonder? Much as I respect, these trees'll do little much of good against that rain. I think I might've recalled some sort of dwelling near enough by... looked fit to be empty, but I sure smelled life about it. We could certainly get away with it if we sought to wait out the downpour there, if you'd like? No one argues with fangs or claws- and gets away with it, that is." Little had she suspected that what she had seen was the temple dedicated to life and order- not the place for one so erratic in behavior as herself, nor for the bloodshed that she promised it. Her tail flicked about behind her, whipping not only the air, but lightly against his ankles. For the lengthy appendage's actions, she paid it no mind, although she likely should have warned James of its existance before allowing it to flick against him with reckless abandon. As it was, her wings were getting restless, having never been comfortable confined beneath her cloak for very long. As her inhuman limbs took to fidgetting, Minno's eyes were fixed in the direction of the escaped hair. James' mention of food only served to revive the memory, and with its return she would have to say that she would not reject the notion of hunting down after it. But priorities had to be made, and she would sooner find shelter before water fell than have to make do after the fact. Pulling away from James at last, she took a few steps away before turning around to face him. "Shelter first, then I'll hunt us some dinner. What you say to that?" |
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| James Ryder | Jun 13 2009, 03:28 PM Post #19 |
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James would have liked to have pressed her for more information, and perhaps to have asked further of her apparent relationship with the man who apparently shared his affliction, but that opportunity was quickly lost. She pushed on, putting it all behind her and, without knowing it, cutting him off from the only link he had to recent events. While he may have been aware of what he was now, and the sorts of thoughts that would now occupy his mind, he didn't want the conversation to end. If nothing else, the werewolf would have liked to have exhausted it, until he knew every single detail. That was, of course, not going to happen, for two reasons: first, he would be exposing himself for what he actually was, and if it was discovered... The absolute solitude and loneliness would likely be the end of him; and second, she had closed the conversation, and he honestly didn't know of anyone else he could ask. His mouth opened, as if to speak, before it closed again. It was done. He flinched as she pushed into him, unused to friendly physical contact. He did not, however, cower or flee, forcing himself to start seeing the difference between the movements of a slave master and that of a normal human being. It was going to be a long, hard road, this path he was now forced to walk. The slave had always imagined that he would one day follow it, but he'd never imagined that it would take a change in his bodily chemistry to bring about that change in lifestyle. James glanced down when something touched the edge of his pantleg. He stared at her tail for a long moment before he turned his grey eyes to Minno. "I'll let you lead the way. I don't even know where we are..." At that he looked around. The sky, indeed, was becoming dark with saturated clouds, and the rains were surely not far off. The field was disturbed by a cold, gentle breeze. Involuntarily, James felt himself shudder. Shelter didn't seem like such a bad idea. He didn't make a move in any direction, as, by the sounds of it, Minno knew exactly where the nearest shelter was and how to get there. Likely, she didn't and wouldn't need any help from her pathetic, useless, weak human companion. He sighed. At least as a slave he had served some sort of purpose, had been able to do something. There really wasn't anything he could do here. It was like being forced to live in a cave for all of one's life: the day you finally decided to crawl out to face the world was the day you realized that you knew nothing about it. One came to exist at that point, not live. "Can I help with the hunting?" he asked, though he knew the answer already. She was a much more proficient hunter than he was (excluding when he transformed, but even then...), and he was liable to only get in her way. At best, James would probably only be able to hold down the fort. But, he thought, at least that's something. |
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| Minno | Jun 15 2009, 03:32 PM Post #20 |
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"We're at the edge of a field, at the edge of a forest. That's right where we are." She could hardly help herself, having no remote idea on the given name of the location they were at. Uncivilisation did not end at savage personalities and poor table manners; being a beast meant you possessed every political knowledge of a beast. Hence she knew where they were no better than James or the next timid mouse. With a smirk at her own remark, she started away, keeping her path to just within the tree line- still safe beneath the canopy of the trees, but skirting around the very edge of the field they bordered. She would not risk the rain to cut across to their destination. Upright travel seemed to suit her well for a matter of minutes, before animal-esque habits inclined her to drop on all fours and crawl along like the manner of beast she resembled. Although built on a figure of humanoid construction, her overall design was considerably more flexible in nature, due to her shifting tendancies. The doakar, as a race that historically strode on all fours, had not lost the ability to walk as such. Although slower, the affinity for a quadrupedal stride had yet remained in the race post their transformation. Minno was a prime example, as her shoulders dropped back to accomodate for the positional change. She paused on her way, casting a glance back at her follower with the raise of a hollow brow. Her tail flicked behind her, content to sway in tune to her own placid emotions. James drew her calm status into first a grin, and then a chuckle, as she considered his inquiry. Could he help her hunt? That was perhaps to be seen, if he persisted on the notion. It were not as though she could not handle it herself. "Can you hunt, my little mouse?" Her wings flexed, straining against the fabric of her loosely fitted cloak. The otherwise hidden appendages created a ripple along her back, and then rose to form the telltale disfigured shapes in the worn black cloth. After a moment of shuffling, she forced them still again, and pressed her back flat against the nearest tree. She ignored their plight, continuing only to smile at James instead, as she entertained the thought of his assistance in her simply complex mind. "If not, I might suggest not, but that wouldn't do you a bit of good, would it?" Pulling away from the tree, she scampered on ahead, somehow proud in her awkward four-limbed gait. She slipped fluidly amidst trees and brush, darting and ducking in and around her obstacles with ease. Nature was where she was most at home, for it was where she grew up and best knew her enemy. If there was a setting she most hated, it was the unfamiliarity of towns and villages that nipped her ear. As she walked, she carried on the conversation, with a smirk clear on her face as bold as the idea stuck in her head. If James would dare it, she would have no qualms in letting him try. "I could teach you, you know. Or I could try to, anyway. Can't say I partically 'spect much of it. After all, you do lack claws. I'm not even sure my hunting style could be applied to a human... may just have to wait and see, now won't we?" She paused again, casting him a quick glance, still with the smirk painted clear on her face. "What you say, James? You up to that?" |
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| James Ryder | Jun 19 2009, 09:07 PM Post #21 |
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He smiled a tiny smile at her description of where they were, though it was considerably weaker than any normal person's. Rather than comment, he chose to follow in silence, watching as she shifted her gait from a human's to that of an animal's, prowling along the ground, moving quickly. She seemed to lose herself, for he had to jog to keep up with her. In between laboured breaths - he spent far more time walking than he did running, unless he was a wolf- he managed a reply. "I... don't really know if I can hunt..." he said, trying to follow her form. It was more difficult than he'd thought it would be. "In the complex I... I would do things like gather wood... or move furniture... or... Sometimes I would hunt, but there were many of us, because we couldn't ever do it alone... We weren't strong enough, and we didn't really have the tools to do it... We did it very rarely though, and eventually not at all... because the manor hired hunting parties." He paused, considering her offer. The only way that he would actually be able to hunt like her would be if he were a wolf... and that wouldn't happen until the evening, which was slowly drawing nearer. There was a deep fear within him, a fear that wasn't being properly shown because it was being masked by other, more immediate fears. Having only just made a new friend, and one who was willing to treat him like a normal person instead of the slave that he was, the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally maul her in the midst of his transformation. Not that he doubted that she couldn't properly defend herself, but that if he did hurt her... Hunting, he decided, would be a good distraction from his own thoughts. "S-sure," he replied, nodding his head, as if to further his resolve. "But shouldn't I find a weapon or something... The hunting parties always left with armed people, dogs, and falcons... They didn't try to do it with their bare hands... And what are we going to hunt? I don't think I could catch a bird without something to shoot at it, either..." For someone who was twenty-five years old, he certainly did seem to lack a number of the skills exhibited by most normal people. For Minno, certainly, it was like dealing with a young child, just with matured speech, a matured body, and a matured mentality. For James, it was like seeing the world through different eyes. All the things he hadn't been able to do were suddenly available to him. The question was: where should he start? |
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| Minno | Jun 22 2009, 11:44 AM Post #22 |
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Having no class whatsoever, Minno responded to his uncertainty with a flat statement. "You probably can't." She was not exactly what one would call tactful, not by a long shot, and neither was she particularly remorseful about it. The extent of her civilised manner stemmed from only four years in a human's care, and then left back to the beasts soon after that. It was not until recently, a term coined loosely in relation to her age, that she had had any human contact at all. That she had gotten even this far was a miracle in itself. Ignorant to her crude response, however, Minno persisted onward. Her gait slowed marginally as she went along, her ears starting to flicker with every few steps as her senses grew peaked for detecting movement, her one eye not staying in any one direction for very long. Her wings settled on her back, the restlessness departed for favor of stealth. As for her tail, it trailed fluidly behind her, without a flick off course. Yet, even as her body prepared for a hunt, her mind stayed with James, parting easily from her wary state to glance back at him as he spoke. She was a hunter by instinct- will had nothing to do with it. "Weapon? What for?" She was slow catching on, but seemed to grasp the concept fairly quickly for one of such questionable intelligence. Not to say that she was stupid, just not very smart. "Ahh... well... that. About that..." Now she was not certain what to do. James would have a hell of difficulty trying to hunt in her fashion, just as she would get very easily frustrated attempting his. Hell if it was the more civilised thing to do, she had no problem using claws. Why did humans not just grow their nails out or something? It was a hell of a lot easier to catch something bare-handed than it was stabbing at it with sticks. She could never grasp the concept. "I guess you'll just have to learn to do what they couldn't, then, because there's no way in hell I'll ever learn how to hunt with a weapon. Fight, fine. Hunt, no. And why? Because when you're hunting, they're running away. When you're fighting, they're running to you. It's different." Although the question had not warranted it, Minno was indignant in her decision, as though the need for weapons was a personal offense. She recovered herself a moment later, ears perking in sudden interest in something that remained unseen. A cruel grin broke out across her grey lips, and she scampered quietly back to James on all fours and circled around behind him, drawing up close to his side with a smirk. She stood fairly quickly, but only to press her hands against his shoulders in a signal for him to duck down amidst the brush with her, as something rustled the vegetation nearby. "Learn, James, that part of hunting is knowing what's around you. Listen. Feel for it... it isn't far." Her voice came as barely a whisper in his ear, while her eye remained fixated on the unrevealed prey. Every muscle in her body seemed ready to spring, but she contained herself, ears perked at their highest as she judged the unwary creature. After a moment, she relaxed, nudging James again with her shoulder. In the same low tone, although slightly raised, she spoke again. "Do not concern yourself with this one. He is a hunter as we are. If not for the sake that he is too strong for you, then just for the fact that fighting him is too much of a hassle for even me to bother with." A fox darted out into view just then, rushing away after some startled squirrel that had not had enough sense to remain in its burrow. Minno sat upright, staring after it, and gave an indifferent shrug. She could care less for squirrel meat. "He can have it." Casual, with the incident already behind her, Minno continued on ahead, stopping after a moment to turn back to James with a grin and a glint in her eye. There was a sense of cruelty in her gaze that told only so well how much joy she would take in ripping a living creature apart. "We will hunt no birds, James. Birds hardly have enough blo- ah, meat, on them to call a meal. Nor do I intend to waste time on a squirrel. I am after bigger prey... a hare. Nothing less." |
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| James Ryder | Jul 3 2009, 11:04 AM Post #23 |
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As Minno spoke, the thought of hunting became less and less appealing. He watched her every movement, the way her eyes flicked and she prepared for the hunt. Between her actions and her demeanour, James was intensely reminded of his werewolf state, when he had at least some measure of control over his own body. The same sort of hunger and focus were present in his animalistic form, and those were feelings that he didn't want to relive when he didn't have to. He wrung his hands together, but the nervous motion quickly stopped when she pulled him down, into the tall grasses. Although James wanted to purge the thoughts from his mind, there was mild interest on his face as he watched her, and listened to her explanations. Still, he'd made up his mind now. Maybe in the future he would learn to hunt, but it couldn't be done now, and wouldn't be. Not with his present state of mind. "I... Can I just... watch or... Watch the place we choose for shelter? I... don't think I can hunt without a weapon, and I don't have the ability to grow claws when I want to. I think it would be best that I just... find something else to do." On some levels it was a bold step for the escaped slave. He had never outright refused an invitation (read: order) before, though this did not quite classify. Although she seemed much fiercer than she had been before their talk had turned to hunting, he didn't think that she would strike him or even gnash her teeth, having seen the scars that riddled his back. Minno should have been able, however, to see that there was an underlying fear in his eyes. As James watched the fox, he felt a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips. She spoke to him like he didn't know what an animal was, as if he had been that sheltered. He knew the difference between a hunter and the hunted, what sorts of creatures were capable of it and what sorts weren't. "Why can't you just kill it? I'm sure you could do it with ease. Meat is just meat, isn't it?" James fell silent as the cruelty entered her eyes, that tiny smile that had been present on his lips quickly vanishing. The slave seemed to shrink away from her, rustling through the brush, putting a bit of space between them. He didn't like that look - feared it, in fact. It was the same look in the slave driver's eyes, and it was a look he never wanted to remember. The instinct to run was beginning to rear its ugly head. |
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| Minno | Jul 7 2009, 02:56 PM Post #24 |
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"It comes down to a simple matter of whether or not it's worth the time, really." Her response was off-handed, a matter-of-fact statement with little pause. These were the rules as she had learned them, all those many years ago. To a beast without a guide, survival was a series of lessons that needed to be learned quickly, or else not at all. She knew the pain of messing up- the forest was unforgiving when it came to poor mistakes. "Also there's a degree of respect involved, the sort that humans generally lack. Hunters don't typically hunt other hunters, unless that hunter had crossed the line. But even then it just comes down to fighting, and when you're hungry, a fight's a big waste of time. So that's the general rule: if it kills for a living, let it be." "So no, meat is not just meat." She turned to look at him then, ears perked as he distanced himself from her. Her brow quirked in confusion at his movements, head tilted in inquiry at look of fear that had overtook him. What had she only just done to cause him to shy way? Slowly, uncertain as to what had caused his aversion, she continued to give her answer, watching him warily with her only eye. "I could kill him easily if I really wanted to, but I just don't think it would be worth the effort." Shoving her concern over his actions roughly from her mind, she whirled back around to continue forward, leading the way once more. The temple had not seemed that far away, to her wolven form, and her true form was not so slow on four legs as to be shameful, but with a human in tow it did seem to be all the further of a distance, especially with the dark clouds lurking overhead. Glancing up between the branches at the overcast sky, Minno regarded the grey blanket with a sneer, and picked up her pace, tail whipping behind her in agitation. As far as food went, as soon as they reached the temple it would have to be quick. She had no intention of being caught in the rain. His avoidance did not stay from her mind for long. With a frustrated growl, she threw herself back onto her hindlegs and stood, spinning back around to face him with a crack as her shoulders dropped into place, allowing her to cross her arms stubbornly before herself in indignation. Her eyes were narrowed in irritation, her fangs only narrowly bared. A growl was only barely kept from her tone as she snapped at him, demanding an answer. "What did I do?" She caught herself only a second afterward, forcing her fangs back behind pursed lips. The anger lifted from her eyes to adopt a less-violent gaze, but the temper was still there. It was too strong to be fully contained. Teeth clenched, she could say no more to him, trying her best to not let her anger scare him off. He was already so flighty... she was the worst person for his fragile psyche to befriend. With a quick breath, she calmed herself, steadying her own unbalanced emotions before making an attempt to speak. Whatever she had done, this certainly was not helping matters, and neither would the rain when it finally chose to fall. "If you'd rather not be wet in the next few minutes, I suggest you deal with whatever problem you may have with me now. Because I do have every intention of lasting out the rain in that structure, and unless you'd rather get soaked, I'm dragging you with me. So either spit it out now or just suck it up, so we can get under that roof before it starts pouring." |
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| James Ryder | Jul 21 2009, 11:26 AM Post #25 |
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James listened to her, but it was only half-heartedly. He knew form experience the feeling of adrenaline beginning to pour into his veins, the feeling and knowledge of the flight or fight response that was slowly taking hold of him. Of course, his natural instinct was to go with the former, not the latter, and as a human would always remain as such. Still, he managed to quell the feeling long enough to follow her, not saying a word, keeping his distance. He would have liked for it to have seemed less obvious, but it was only time before Minno inevitably noticed the change in his mood. When she rose up he recoiled backwards, desperately wishing that he could have curled into a ball. He might have, on the grass there, if he had been certain that it would have led to a better outcome than the one that was sure to happen. "Y-you... I..." he stuttered. He did have a problem but... Speaking his mind was not one of his characteristics. James seemed torn for a moment, his face contorting from sadness to anger to fear briefly. Then, without warning, he bolted. The slave fled towards the building in the distance, heedless of the ominious, looming clouds above, or the fact that Minno was somewhere behind him, probably dumbstruck. He didn't look back, just stumbled his way along. For someone who had hardly eaten and had spent most of his life doing mundane tasks, it was a surprise that he could run as fast or as far as he did. Even as the slave's lungs began to burn and his legs began to ache, he pushed himself hard, harder than he ever really had, fumbling and stumbling but always keeping the refuge in sight. Eventually, with body fiercely protesting and mind overcome with exhaustion, James found himself staggering into the temple, found himself staggering towards the eastern side. He collapsed beside the altar. He laid there for several minutes, on his side, staring at the nearest wall, eyes looking vague, as if he was staring into space. Then, slowly, the lids of those grey eyes slid shut until, unwillingly, he slipped into the realm of sleep, the exhaustion finally making itself pronounced, the act of running for what seemed like forever finally taking its toll. He would not stir now, not even if someone were to walk in and nudge him with the their toe, or shake him. He would wake eventually, but not now. James shivered in his sleep, at times looking reminiscient of a dog. |
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