Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Living Danger [1x1]

(I'm so sorry! It got lost in the notifications Dx)

Rahime nodded slightly. "Yes, let's keep going. Especially if you need to hunt. It's best to catch the hunger early." He walked along with her, getting up to his feet and keeping a little bit ahead of her. "If you smell a rabbit or a deer, tell me." He knew she'd probably sense possible prey before he could.

They wandered on as the sky began to lighten, from a deep azure to a medium smokey blue. Her head felt hazy, and when she tried to pick scents from the human-laden air it was like wading through mud. She glanced to Rahime with a poorly hidden grimace, and scanned the woods in an attempt to hide it as her hunger and worry deepened. Finally, finally, she caught it: the whiff of venison, within two miles from them. Her pause was only long enough to judge and mutter its direction.

"West," was all she uttered before she took off at a sprint into the trees.

Being downwind lent its advantage, protected her initially crass footfalls. Soon though she picked her path as nimble as any woodland creature, hardly slowing for the first solid mile. By then the deer had wandered closer, putting them within a half mile of each other, and the scents had changed. Heart pounding, mouth watering, she found it difficult to determine how many there were and was awash with a bloodlust she had never known. Her pace had slowed to a fast walk with long loping strides, and sweat drizzled down her neck, beaded on her brow.

Her eyes skittered the horizon through the gaps in the forest and she finally stopped there, on a slight hill overlooking a sparser patch of foliage. She could practically feel their leisurely hoofsteps and heartbeats in her hands as she knelt, mouth watering and eyes wide.

Rahime took off after her, faster and more agile than one might expect for a human. His hands glowed, ready to take action should there be the need. He ducked away, hiding behind a tree and watching as she approached the path of the deer. He watched, careful, following her along. Just one. He had to make sure that she had just one. Any more and she could get in deep trouble.

To a new werewolf, a handful of deer in a wooded glade was a smorgasbord fit for a king's feast, and the eyes of this particular werewolf were fixed upon the biggest of the animals. She still looked human but her thoughts were far from counting the points on the beastly buck, and wholly centered on its heart, it's movement. It didn't see them, or Bryzain's nails gripping dirt, none of the herd could. And so they wandered to graze, spreading at the bottom of the slope, right where she hoped they would. The desire to pounce felt like an itch that she couldn't scratch, not yet. She should have had an arrow ready and slowly set to do so, but it took a hardened minute to shake her increasingly wild thoughts. It was almost painful, like relaxing against a cramped muscle, and made her whimper.

The buck heard it and shot its head up in their general direction, sending panicked adrenaline into her mind yet allowing her to focus more clearly on the sweet spot she aimed for. The arrow flew, hit its mark, and the crowd of deer dispersed. Such disappointment had never followed such a perfect shot, disconcerting her as she slid and skittered down the rock-and-dirt littered hillside.

Rahime was pleased as she hunted with her bow and arrow. That was a good sign. He ran, beating her to the buck. He lifted it onto his shoulders. "Come on, let's find a place to make a fire. We'll cook it up." Not what she wanted probably, but what she needed.

Bryzain didn't bother acknowledging his words, and had never gutted anything as swiftly as she did that day. If she had been capable of conscious thought, she might have remembered her first kill; how the smell of rabbit's blood made her gag and wretch. But this...

Blood oozed over her hands when it drained from the animal, like hot gooey syrup over luscious pancakes, and she couldn't help herself. She touched a reddened finger to her tongue, shuddering with revolted ecstacy at the warmth and spice of fear. Her eyes glazed over, hands pulled at the thing's insides; shredding its pelt as hers grew in, thick and inky black. The wolf-woman gutted the carcass with rapidily elongating claws as her snout burrowed for the heart. Finding it, she chomped at it furiously.

After devouring most of its lungs and gnashing on the liver, the werewolf, having had its fill, laid down beside the kill and promptly fell asleep.

Poor Bryzain wouldn't get as far as to sleep on a content stomach. As she started gutting it he moved in, grabbing her from behind and grappling her to lock her arms behind her back. He murmured something quietly, foreign words, and his hands glowed with the spell that would immobilize Bryzain. If she didn't try gutting HIM first, that is. "Happy memories, girl! What are your memories?!" he shouted in her ear, trying to hold her still until the spell would take effect.

She struggled against his embrace and tried to throw him off, letting loose a growling roar that turned into a high-pitched whine as her body was forced to change back. If she clawed him, she couldn't know. The voice that left her became more human screams and she steadily struggled less when Rahime's voice made sense once more. As her form shrank in his arms, her thoughts turned to her mother and calmed her further before she finally stopped seizuring and whimperingz

Shrinking to her knees, blood sprayed from the grass and added more stains to her indecently tattered clothing and now-human face. Her eyes opened, looking confused and worried at the gore around her before realizing what had happened.

"Oh God, no. Did I hurt you?!" She reached out and touched his arm in concern.

Rahime let her go when she finally returned to her senses, letting the spell leave too. He had gashes on his arm, but he didn't seem too concerned with them. "Minor. I've had much worse in a much shorter amount of time." He looked at her calmly. "You're not allowed to hunt anymore. From now on, I do it." They hadn't waited until her hunger was great. He was worried what even a slight hunger had made her do once she'd made a kill. He lifted her to her feet, walked her over, and sat her down facing a tree. Then he draped his cloak around her. "Take a few moments. Breathe and relax." He was going to prepare the food. What was left of it, at least.

After she withdrew her hand, she found herself a place to sit and mellow, still within sight and hearing range of Rahime. Still covered in blood, she went about the business of tidying herself up and processing what happened. As soon as she'd tasted blood, she'd lost it, and it terrified her how precarious the edge between control and psychosis was. Did she even have any control anymore? Her hands shook over her red-streaked face, wiping away already drying carnage. When she looked to the man preparing his meal, she noticed more gore in her hair.

What a sight I must be, she thought, a true monster.

Bryzain had to pour her water pouch over her head to loosen the bulk of her disastrous appearance, streaming her body and the ground at her feet with fluid as she scrubbed. She shook her head, flinging pink droplets around her before sitting once again. Is this what her father experienced? Was he out there now, living this exact version of Hell? They'd never recovered his body, though they'd had a burial, and try as the village might they could not stem the whispers of what happened. Of her own account, she could recall seeing many black-haired wolves in that area. For all she knew, her father had been the one to attack her, effectively bringing her into whatever world he was a part of now.

She sighed. Such thoughts would get her nowhere, and might likely further endanger her only ally in this new life. Picturing her mothers face, her heart calmed itself as her head thunked against a tree. None of this felt okay and, though her hunger was beyond satiated, she found her innards plummeting to an insecure place. Feeling disgusted with herself was bad enough, but thinking of facing a town full of people was beyond consideration.

"You should go, if we need supplies. I can't endanger another town." Her eyes stayed on her feet, glancing over her torn clothing to stare at the bare toes squishing up mud.

(Sorry, you caught me the week I was sick so I couldn't respond right away!)

Rahime listened to her speak and he shook his head slightly. "Nonsense. Leaving you here alone would make it too easy to lose you." Unless he cast another holding spell, but those were difficult to keep if it was a raging werewolf and he wasn't there to strengthen it. "There's a stream nearby. After we eat, you can wash up properly there." He brought some of the cooked meat over and set it down. "There you go." He'd already cut it apart with his dagger into bite-size pieces. Less temptation for her to rip into it like an animal.
He sat down beside her with his own bit of the meal. "We'll need to get you new clothes. You'll need to be there for that anyways. We can claim an animal attack if the villagers ask any questions." He looked at her calmly. "If you go crazy in the village, I can stop you. But you won't. I know you won't." In theory, at least. His theory was that as soon as she saw people, women who reminded her of her mother, she'd calm down and would be less likely to go off on a rampage.

Bryzain simply nodded and nibbled at the bites of meat, covering the taste of blood with that of cooked morsels. As brooding as she felt, she hated to pout, and attempted to lighten the mood.

"At least it's nice and tender, eh?" Her smirk was half-hearted, her stomach churned more than it should have. When she was finished, she made her way to the stream and dunked her head in up to the neck, using her fingers to tousle out the worst of her hair and clear the creases of her face. When she was sure he wasn't watching, she washed the bloodier parts of her body, and rinsed her feet. She picked the grime from her broken fingernails as she made her way back to him.

"When do we leave here?" She had to admit she was anxious for fresh clothing, albeit nervous at the prospect of fresh faces.

Rahime just ate his own bit of the meal, giving a nod to her slight 'tease'. He let her wash up while he cleaned up what he'd used to prepare their food, and when she came back, he looked up. "Probably soon." He glanced up at the sky and nodded. "Let's keep moving. The sooner we get there, the better. We'll sleep in the inn. It will be better."

He stood up and once everything was ready, he started walking, making sure to keep her close to him. He had to keep a good eye on her, after all. She was volatile right now.

For much of their journey, her head hung in shame. She had lost herself, and felt naked at present; like a child caught thieving cookies...if the child were bipolar and the cookies covered in blood. Her head shook again, ponytail flicking her face as she glanced off to the woods they were leaving. She felt gross, and seeing her skin through torn fabric made her want to coil in on herself; wads of tatters balled up in her fists kept her technically 'decent' but made her seem awkward and broken.

Is this what an attacked survivor looks like? she found herself wondering. Had things turned out differently for her father, he wouldn't have looked so ragged no matter how pathetic he felt. Her mother too, had never let her fear and worry show. She felt self-indulgent on top of everything. Who was she to look so small? Both of her parents could handle what the world threw at them, why couldn't she?

By the time they reached the outskirts of town, she'd swallowed her self-hatred enough to walk taller and grow impatient with holding her clothes together. Her important parts were covered, even if her pale skin was nearly reflective with water and sweat.

She'd noticed that too, between her feast and the movement, her heart rate and body heat had remained elevated. At least her symptoms had many viable excuses... She tried not to chuckle at the memory of trying to fake being sick as a kid, smoothing back her dark stray hairs. She let her pace indicate she would be following him, and decided on keeping her gaze down until they settled in.

Rahime walked along with her quietly. There was a lot to think about. He had to make sure that she was safe. That she wasn't going to hurt others. When they reached the village, he put an arm around her and took her into a tailor's. "We need a new outfit...those beasts in the forest have gotten worst. You might want to start warning travelers." He got a new outfit for Bryzain and let her change, and then looked her over carefully. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

At his question she nodded, as much as she wanted to tell him everything on her mind in an effort to show she was still human. The girl let his arm hang around her while her mind took over on auto-pilot to put one foot in front of the other, her head hanging to appear weary to onlookers. Avoiding eye contact, she took the short stack of clothes handed her by the tailor to try on. The clothes meant for adventure just felt wrong, too big and manly, looking like she had draped herself in a potato sack. Leaving on the grey tunic though, she slipped into a green travel dress that hung above the ground but below her knees and over her boots. It brought out her eyes, and fit like a gem. After she had buttoned up and fixed her hair again, she stepped out to find Rahime, holding the ends of the lengthy sleeves in her fists and tucking those under her arms as she joined the two men. Finally she raised her eyes, seeking approval from her companion.

Rahime waited patiently, paying the man for the outfit and explaining the made-up tale of the beast's attack against them. When she came out, he looked up. He hesitated for a moment, just one pause, and then smiled. "It fits great. It's like nothing ever happened." He walked over and wrapped her in his arms, holding her gently. "Don't worry, we're staying far away from forest trails now. How do you feel?" He stepped back and nodded in approval at the dress, though most of his words itself were just putting on the act to keep the tailor from being suspicious.

After their embrace she thanked the men and turned to Rahime. "Much better. Will we be staying in town?"

At her words the tailor pointed them in the direction of the inn, mentioning the attached pub and other town amenities. Bryzain nodded alongwith the man's explanation, thanked him again, and otherwise made no direct implication she'd noticed his pause.

Rahime nodded. "Just for the night." He walked with her to the inn and thanked the men, getting them something to eat but preferring to eat up in the privacy of their room. Once they were indeed settled up in their room, he looked at her. "How are you feeling?" He handed her her meal and sat down himself, watching her carefully.

He couldn't have asked the same question for want of more to say, so she needlessly straightened her dress as she searched for the words.

"Well...just now I feel rather rejuvinated, this dress really is wonderful - thank you again - mostly I feel ashamed, and not like myself. And yet frighteningly...empowered?" If she looked or sounded confused, she was. "I hate that I hurt you, that I lost my mind, but...it was quite the rush, I must admit. And on the way here...I couldn't help but wonder if maybe my father is out there somewhere." She considered her thoughts before she continued, ending up laying down after her pacing and staring up when she asked her next question.

"Do you think some remain changed? That maybe some just stay lost once they lose themselves?" The idea made her shiver, preferring to think if her father had survived he might have some semblance of his own self left. Rolling to her stomach she concluded, "you've seen more than I have at any rate."