RP:Attack Of A Lycan

Synopsis: Raziel leaves a friend's home and finds herself being chased by a hungry lycan wolf on the night of the full moon. Unknowingly, she leads him straight into the path of two innocent bystanders...

Location: Dark Forest

Date: 10 December, 2011

Characters: Desparrow, Kyros, Raziel

The Chase

Raziel was on her way home from her friends little shack in the woods after checking up on his pet, the elf humming to herself as she walks, though she listens closely to her surroundings like usual. As the woman adjusts the hat upon her head two lemon yellow eyes look out from the dark shadows of the forest, watching Raz and thinking the blind woman to be an easy meal as there is not much for hunting within these dark woods. With a growl the beast shoots out from the woods dashing at the woman so as to try and take her down swiftly, though Raz acted as soon as she heard him and begin to run.

The morning had been long, and as the day dredged on, Kyros found himself in and out of training with Desparrow, the elf's instructions being followed to the tee. It seemed that the fight they'd had less than a week previous left the human in an uncompromised trust for his lover, for his ability to promise him devotion was, perhaps, all Kyros needed. So now he listened more intently, followed through with determination, and was learning the skills of battle that Desparrow taught him much more consistantly. It was his archery, he thought, where he needed the most work. This human had only ever picked up a bow a handful of times in his life, and each one was with Desparrow's training. There was much room for improvement. The Dark Woods, where they camped, held a sense of forboding at night, an eerie black darkness that was hard to shake off, but Kyros had been lulled into a sense of security these past weeks. He was training, his fighting was better than ever before, and he was not alone. The human turned, drew his shoulders back and, playfully, aimed Desparrow's arrow at its master. "If I shoot you," he began, teasingly, his voice drawn out and a smirk across his lips, "should you be upset with me for shooting you, or proud that I've learned enough to aim that well?" He grins, drawing the arrow back so that the bow is taut. He surely wouldn't shoot him, but the entertainment of the thought and the conundrum itself was amusing.

Desparrow had worked with Kyros on his skill with fighting all that day, leaving him only partially exhausted. The stamina that he had built up was left over from the previous days’ lack of training. It was a relief to finally be able to work out all of the excess energy and it seemed to be paying off. After their latest break, he had decided that it was about time that they work on something other than physical hand to hand combat. He turned a bit to see what Kyros was talking about, not quite knowing for sure what was going on. He was a bit surprised at first as he noticed the arrow aiming at him. “You can try, but chances are you would miss anyways.” The elf laughs at this remark, slipping off his shirt and tossing it aside. Going to his pack, he pulled out Tempest and slung up his quiver of arrows. Around his bow were the very winds of the storm itself, capable of conjuring flames, cyclones, thunder and lightning, perhaps even a hurricane. Beginning to laugh, his cerulean eyes gazed upon Kyros’ form, “Shoot me, I will show you what I mean.” Should he actually shoot, the bow would twitch just slightly, and a gale would be conjured to press the arrow off course and barely miss him.

Raziel continued to flee the beast that pursued her, a humming coming forth from her mouth, the sound intertwined with her bard magics so that it worked out as a sonar of sorts. The wolf, however, was finally catching up behind the woman, due to all of the last minute dodges she had to make of trees and other such obstacles, the animal biting at her ankles as she goes. She wouldn’t have any idea of the others being in the woods, and was unfortunately heading straight for them, though they wouldn’t see her as of yet. The woman growls beneath her breath and tosses the dagger haphazardly behind her, only scratching the beast across the legs. The downside of her sonar, being that she cannot use that and her song of sleep at the same time. The animal makes a tackle of sorts to the elf, gripping her by the forearm and driving his teeth in, though thanks to her leather armor hidden beneath her outfit, the animals teeth are slowed enough that she’s able to quickly ram it against a tree, knocking it off from the shock. “Will you give it a rest!” she shouts behind her at it, as it decides to continue the chase, apparently rather desperate for food.

Kyros held the arrow parallel to the ground. His arm shook and he looked down the arrow's shaft at Desparrow. Undeniably, he wanted to see what would happen, but wouldn't, because he lowered the bow and arow slowly. His eyes stayed focused on the man, though, and he shook his head. Undoubtedly, the elf had the ability to dodge or deter the arrow; that was vaguely comforting. He raised the arrow again, drawing it back fully. His form was decent, his aim practiced, and were the arrow left to its own devices, would have plunged into Desparrow's stomach. However, the gale detered it, and it sailed just past Desparrow, cutting air near his shoulder and landing in the grass some twenty feet beyond. Had he known of the impending danger, Kyros would have, perhaps, held onto the arrow to use for defense. Or, more likely, would have abandoned it altogether to draw his sword and assume a fighting pose. The man was regretably unaware.

Desparrow watched and waited, not even aware of the coming threat to the two of them. “Come on you pussy.” He mocked with sardonic grin on his face. He figured Kyros wouldn’t do it. “Shoot me” he chided when the other male lowered the bow. A playful light was burning in his eyes at this point, he wanted it, just to see if he could do it, just to see if he could alter the course of the arrow before it hit him. Shortly after Kyros did raise the bow and fire his arrow. Desparrow was pleased, but he didn’t have enough strength to make the arrow go faster, which was a little disappointing. Right before the twang of the bow string, Tempest twitched, so slightly it was unnoticeable and the arrow was off course. Right by him it sailed, he could hear the arrow head cut its path through the air, the brief whistle of it slicing by. If Tempest hadn’t reacted, them it could have severed something, thankfully it didn’t however and that was a good thing. “I guess I rescind my remark about you being a pussy.” He muttered before laughing.

Raziel begins to enclose upon the couple of men, and when she hears their voices she shouts “Move it! Move it! Outta the way, there’s a stray wolf!” the elf lycan holding to her fedora so it wouldn’t fly off, and just running to get away now. She couldn’t bring herself to kill the beast, however when the wolf sees the other two prey a dark wolfy grin appears upon his features, a loud snarl made as it jumps to get Kyros by the shoulder and bring him down, where if he does catch the man, he’d start trying to maul him to death. Raz wouldn’t just run away from the scene, however, for when she hears the wolf go at the others she curses beneath her breath and spins around and darts back to where they are, wishing to help them. The wolf, in the meantime is so full of hunger and bloodlust that he only seems to care for getting Kyros as his next meal.

Kyros smiled playfully, his hands gripping the bow as he lowered the weapon in front of him. "I'm no pussy," he said, wrinkling his nose as he looks at the elf. "That you'd even call me that-" he began, but soon he heard Raziel's screams. He recognized her and acted quickly, turning towards the oncoming danger, dropping the bow, and drawing his sword. It became immediately clear that he'd never dealt with a lycan before, and seemed to think, at first, that it was a common wolf. His blade was held in front of him, and he ran at the beast, fast and angry, still in defense mode from training. He ran blindly at the wolf, lacking skill to fell it, but lacking self-preservation to keep from trying. The beast lunged at him, and he dodged it, barely, his sword swinging right beside his shoulder blade. The wolf turned and this time bit into Kyros' side with sharp teeth, tearing through flesh and splattering gore from his stomach and chest. Blood covered the ground, and Kyros was thrown several feet into the grass. His sword landed several feet away, and as he began to crawl to it, the beast took his shoulder between its jaw this time, snapping bone and ripping the foolish human's flesh and muscle, while Kyros was helpless to stop it.

Desparrow continued to laugh until he heard the woman screaming as well. However, unlike Kyros, he stood back to watch. He was unusual and cruel like that, to take entertainment from a death in such a way. However things turned out to be quite the opposite. As it came for them and Kyros decided to challenge it, he was left in a daze, his eyes unable to even blink as the spectacle unfolds at such a blinding speed. As soon as it bit into the male, the elf was in action. His aura of power revealed itself, the ethereal serpent spirit coiled around its master while the aurora of mana wrapped itself about his body tight, so tightly in fact that he gained this iridescent glow, the rainbow flowing around and enveloping him. Raising a hand, a magic field enclosed around the lycan. It would not be able to escape, such creatures with wills such as their own were powerless to stop him usually. This one was distracted with the prospect of food and would be swiftly ended. Muttering a few words, his other hand swelled in size, becoming beefy and covered in leathery scales. It was a dragon claw when it was done transforming. With a twitch of his other hand’s index finger, the mouth of the lycan was forced open off of Kyros’ shoulder blade, much to the creature’s own confusion. Then with a quick motion it was thrown into the air, towards Desparrow himself. “Die you foul-mouthed Bastard!” It came at him with a look of burning fury and greed. Greed or was it hunger? Didn’t matter, but the look in its eyes sent Desparrow into a semi-trance, as if the swirling mists that slowly obscured the very ground they stood upon were clouding his mind as well. His magic for the moment failed, he was slammed into and sent sprawling. This was just enough to snap him back into reality, but not bring him back before the thing could bury its jaws into his inner shoulder, tearing through muscle and into bone even. It took only one mighty swing to knock it off, the body too big to really miss. It went rolling. It was strange, seeing his blood everywhere, but then again he wasn’t even thinking straight. Time seemed to slow down at this moment, his vision narrowing to see only the lycan as it turned and lunged at him again. Rearing his right arm, he cocked it for his punch, but what he did instead with the dragon claw, was bury it in the Lycan’s mouth, going further down the throat and into its stomach. Claws extended and began to grip anything it could, intestine, the stomach itself, and before the creature could get a good grip on his arm, he ripped his fist out, pulling out a massive glob of entrails along with it, the gashes on his arms leaking blood like a fire hydrant so it seemed. It was a good thing he didn’t need blood though. And that was when his vision closed off, his eyes going dark and he fell back, laying on the ground to bleed out.

A Bittersweet Victory

Raziel cursed again, perhaps more audibly this time, as the scent of Kyros’s blood hit her nose. She didn’t even realize whom this pair of people were, but as she’s about to go to use her sabre as a way to get the beast off of Ky, she finds the creature to leave his body. Quickly she sheaths the blade and drops to her knees beside the man, feeling horrible that he was injured by a creature that was chasing her down instead. “I’m sorry about that! I can heal your wounds as best I can.” She tells him, carefully going to assist him into a more comfortable position as Desparrow continues the battle against the creature. Whether Kyros answers that she can heal him, or it he’s too damaged to speak, she’d begin to lace music and magic together, her voice a hauntingly beautiful soprano, like that of an angel and a siren mixed into one body. Her song would be without words and the magic would weave about and pour over his body invisibly. Though her magic is weaker than most bards, his muscles and tissues should start to slowly reconnect and regrow. Bones possibly clicking back into place. When she’s finished with her singing his wounds would still be open, but the bleeding would have ceased and so next she’d fish out a roll of bandages, keeping her ears open for any more troubles. Kyros’s shirt would have to be removed, but afterwards, if allowed, she’d go about bandaging up any of the injuries… That’s when Desparrow would fall and seemingly pass out. The wolf was already dead, there’d be nothing she could do for that, but she’d go to Desparrow to do the same that she did for Kyros, in hopes of healing them both before any worse harm could befall them.

Kyros had fainted, his vision blacking out, as soon as his shoulder was torn into. His eyes rolled back and he fell onto the ground, sprawled back and out of it. The only reaction he had was after his bones had been healed and the fight was over, taking a gasp of breath into his lungs. He was still fainted, though, eyes closed and head lulled to the side as his wounds healed.

Desparrow had almost completely bled out by the time Raziel had gotten to him. It was a good thing that he really didn’t need his blood though. Why he didn’t need it he never knew, but it was his mana that quickly filled up and flowed through his veins, making his body work as it should until his bones could begin replacing the precious red blood cells. Slowly his body began its repair, but the bite marks refused to obey the magic that Raziel was using on his body. It was a simple matter, the healing; it was just what did this now mean for him and Kyros? That was the real question.

Raziel growls beneath her breath as her fingertips gently trace the outside of his wounds, the things not healing up as they should. It was as she thought, what with how big the wolf was and that the elf was raised by normal wolves... The creature being a lycan, therefore meaning the two were to possibly become ones themselves. After tightly tying up his wounds she stands and moves to begin making a bed out of soft leaves so that she could lie the two down, the elf strong enough to just barely be able to carry both. After lying them down she'd sit there, rummaging through her satchel to see if she had any medicines or potions that could assist either.

The human dreamed, and he drifted in and out of consciousness, hearing the loud noises of the forest around them, and the shuffling of leaves. He had no concept of being picked up by Raziel, or where Desparrow was in his vicinity. There was darkness and vague hearing, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. He shook, his body hurt and his body arching slightly, and when he dreamed, he dreamed about teeth and claws, large sharp shapes and breaking bones. The sound he'd heard when his shoulder snapped, the way his muscles tore. His dreams consisted of this, and he had, in the brief moments of consciousness, dread filling his mind and the underlying sense that something was wrong with Desparrow, and this alone was the thought that pulled him out of unconsciousness. His body nearly broken, his hands shaking, and his wounds bandaged, he lifted himself up onto his elbow nearly, before falling back onto his back. The human made a weak, choking noise. He was much more injured than Desparrow, but he got himself a few inches from the ground and then rolled over. "Desp," he mumbled, his face contorted in pain. He saw Raziel's form, his hand reaching out and coming to rest on her knee, falling off after a brief moment. He was too weak and too confused to do anything else.

Desparrow was trapped in his own mind, having gone into a realm of darkness. A powerful entity resided in this place locked away in his mind. His goddess! She had beckoned him! This was strange, why now, and how? She was so far away. Her light, serpentine voice hissed in his mind, congratulating him on getting someone to create the swords. Who was this? Deavanor? Yes.. he was crafting the Ryder blades. All efforts to possibly waken him were to no avail. His leader had him in her grasp. The swords would be used to cause untold destruction. With their forging, Hollow would fall entirely. None would be able to stop it. Each blade would attract a serpent spirit and once possessed, would use the very people of hollow to destroy the land! After her ranting about in his head, she faded from his mind, and took the memory of it ever happening with her, leaving him in his realm of everlasting night. It may be minutes, hours, perhaps even a few days until he finds his way out from this induced coma that he had ended up in.

Raziel sighs, leaving Desparrow to rest, though concern comes to her face as Kyros's hand touches her... His voice... "Kyros?... Bloody bells, that's not good..." the elven lycan removes a bottle of spring water, and a rag from her satchel pouring water upon rag and wiping his brow with it, before folding it into a rectangle and setting it upon his forehead, doing the same for Desparrow. Once done with this she goes back to Kyros and tells him in a gentle voice "Don't move. That'll cause more damage... Whether you can hear me or not just stay put, I'll be here to guard you both for a while..." a raven flies to her shoulder, looking upon the two men. "Kraar, my brother. Get Yerrel the healer from Kelay. He'll recognize you from when I was there." her hand pulls out a parchment piece and a chunk of thin charcoal, writing down a messy note off of feeling alone and handing it to the bird the note instructing the Raz needed his help with them, so that they wouldn't be left alone in the woods. Though it would more than likely be a long wait until the man comes with a carriage to bring them back to Kelay

At The Healer's

The slow drag of being in and out of sleep was keeping Kyros from properly relaxing, from recooperating strength, but the injuries couring through the pulse of his body wouldn't let him sit up, or speak, or get a grasp on the difference between life and dreams. He was reeling. Then, finally, between the time Raziel sent the note and the carriage finally arriving, he passed into a heavy sleep, and his mind went dark. When he next opened his eyes, he was in a room, on a cot with bandages wrapping his torso. He felt a strength in his mind and muscles that, he assumed, had to do with a healing spell or potion. The man would have no idea that it was to attribute to the lycan blood coursing through his veins. As he sat up, he could hear voices: an unfamiliar man, talking in a slow. steady drawl. Were he not so tired, Kyros would have been scared. He had no choice but to prop himself up on his elbows and look around at his surroundings. How long had he been unconscious? And where had Raziel taken them?

Desparrow was trapped in his own mind, sealed away. He wouldn’t know what’s going on and would be entirely unresponsive to anything anyone would try to do to him. As for the tending to, none of it would matter in the end, he wasn’t going to die here, not on this day. The night was still very young and the longer it went on, the closer Desparrow himself was getting to finding a way out..if he would at all.

Raziel sat for a very long time, tending to the men and listening to the surroundings. Why did this have to happen in such an eerie place where the sun never seemed to rise? Finally a carriage would arrive and Raz helped Yerrel the healer, and the carriage driver pick up the men and place them within the carriage. Raz cared for both the entire way there, feeling bad that she led a lycan straight to the two. When they reached Kelay, after a long time, Raz again helped with carrying them and situating them in the bed... She was rather amazed that Yerrel didn't mind her presence, considering the last time she was in his hut her father's entrance for getting her out was by shooting Yerrel with a crossbow bolt... Once again she assists with tending to them, bandaging them and washing their brows with cool spring water. She and the healer talking about what happened, when Kyros finally awakens... Though he propped himself up on his shoulder. Raz heard his movements and went to him with a sigh, saying softly "Kyros you need to lie down... I had the healer, Yerrel, bring you and Sir Ryder to Kelay. All your things are here as well." upon her shoulder is her raven, looking between the two as if he were being her eyes.

Kyros let his eyes come into focus. He sat up and ran his hands hard over his face, the roughage of sleep getting to him. His eyes were low. FInally, he could focus on Raziel and his body relaxed back down, his eyes closing briefly as his head came back to the pillow underneath it. "How..." he spoke, but couldn't find the words for what he was feeling. His eyes hurt, and his head felt even worse, but it was nothing compared to the firey pain in the wounds, healed or not - he certainly couldn't tell, because of the bandages, and the pain was the same, too, as if the wounds had been open and untreated. He didn't know what had happened to him, or what this strong heat coursing through his body meant. He couldn't ask the question, either, and his eyes searched her face for answers briefly. "Thank you for healing me..." he said quietly. "What happened? Is Desp okay?" his eyes scanned over her. "Are you okay? Am I - I'm fully healed, right?"

Raziel places her index finger to her lips shushing him. "Calm yourself Kyros... Everythings alright." her voice seems to be steady and rather calming, almost as if she's wrapping her magic into her words alone to keep him calm. "Desparrow's alright, Yerrel tells me that he believes him to just be unconscious for a while, and that he'll keep an eye on him... And yes, I'm fine. Thanks to you two. As for what happened..." she kneels beside the bed to wet his brow with the cool waters again, still using calm words. "A wolf was chasing me, and I accidently came across you two... One of you, I think Desparrow, took down the wolf after it attacked you both... I'm sorry this happened." his next question came to her ears and she bit her bottom lip in thought, "I... Am not entirely sure... Um. But I suggest keeping calm... Highly suggest it really. You'll just make your heartrate increase and that's unhealthy."

"I see," Kyros spoke, and his voice was even, his words calm. He kept his eyes on her, but with his mind running through all the possibilities, it was hard for him to decipher exactly what he should be worried about. A small part of his mind thought 'lycan', but a larger part of him said there was no way this was more than a common wolf. No way the injuries were more than flesh wounds. He was surprisingly calm, though, with his shoulders relaxed back on the cot, and he let his eyes fall shut when she ran the cold, wet rag over his brow. When he opened them again, he looked up at her raven briefly, then back to her. "I'm calm, I assure you. I want... I want to see Desp," he said slowly, and he rubbed his hand over his face. "I feel strange... tired," he sighed, "Was I very badly injured?" he wanted answers, it seemed, and though he was far from panicking, he wasn't quite at ease.

Raziel points over to the cot that Desp was lying in. "He's over upon the other cot, dear. And, yes, tired is something I'd imagine you'd be feeling..." she places the rag back into the water and rubs the left side of her neck, where there were two scars in a cresent shape like teeth... They'd been there for nearly a month now. "Well... Yeah, you were. I guess... flesh injuries and broken bones. But you're fine now, I assure you." Raz sighs, unsure what to say... She'd never been in this type of situation before. The raven ruffles his feathers and makes a low cawing nose, Raz's head turning in his direction a moment... The bird had told her to tell him the truth, but she was afraid of freaking the man out, and she wasn't even 100% positive if the wolf was indeed a lycan.

Kyros had no reason to question if the wolf had been lycan. He'd been torn to shreds and passed out before he'd seen the thing taken down by Desparrow, and even as strange as his injuries were, he certainly didn't feel as though he'd been transformed into anything. Kyros was ignorant to lycan transformation, not quite educated enough to know that the soreness in his bones, the tired feeling in his head, the way his body seemed wrong, the way his wounds stung where the beasts teeth had torn into flesh. He didn't understand, or know how to evaluate the situation, and even now, as he laid watching her and listening to her hesitant tone, he had no reason to think there was something further wrong with him. He lifted his head to look at the cot opposite him, Desparrow's still form. He shifted onto his side and winced, laying his head back down and closing his eyes.

Raziel sighed at the man as he moved again, though she knew the feeling. She hated being cooped up and stuck in one spot. "Kyros, please try not to move much..." lovely, she was sounding like Yerrel... "Umm... Look, there's something I need to tell you... Though you may not like it..." Raziel shrugs to herself, and pulls up a chair to the man, sitting herself onto it. "That wolf... It... I don't think at least... Very hard for me to tell... But I don't think that he was a normal wolf..." her hand gently scratches at the left of her neck once again. "It... May have been a lycan... And I know you two don't exactly have a choice in the matter, if it truly was... Not like I did... But, if it was a lycan, and you two do turn, and you're wondering anything... You can always come talk to me.... I'm being taught about these things, and I could help answer any questions either of you may have if this is so... I'm sorry if it is though..." Another sigh comes forth from her, her face 'looking' at the ground, for she acts with motions of one who isn't blind. "But, here's how my boyfriend and I think of it... We both believe it to be a gift. To be able to see through the mind and eyes of an animal. To be able to appreciate nature more, in the way animals do... But we're both rather calm about this... I dunno how you'd see it being."

Kyros watched her silently, his eyes scanning over her, and then they shifted over to the other cot. What would Desparrow think of this? Would he turn? Even worse, what if Desparrow hadn't gotten bit, and only he turned, then what? The man's mind ran through things. What Tanya had told him, about how the beasts' blood would kill her. What Zaxx had said that caused the duel between he and Raziel in the first place; that lycans were beasts. He'd heard them called dogs, mutts, he'd heard people in passing say they'd hunt a lycan for fun, because they were sub-human. Suddenly, a wave of dread washed over him. "No. You can undo it, you have magic," he said quietly to her, and then his eyes scanned the room where they were, seeing potions and books. He thought to himself that maybe one of them could undo this. Suddenly, he lifted himself up into a semi-sitting position, though he winced deeply as he did so, and drew in a breath through his teeth. He was still, letting the pain subside, before he tried to get up. Undoubtedly, he would fail. "Someone can undo it, right? Something-" he spoke, becoming frantic. "Humans are weak as it is... I won't have anything else, I won't be able to become more powerful. I'll be even weaker, I'll never become anything great, or learn how to fight, or make my father's death worth something. I don't want... I can't..."

Raziel shakes her head, gently placing a hand on his arm. "Kyros... Kyros shhh... It can't be undone... I mean, my friend Korra can... But I don't think that her thoughts of how are pleasant and probably would kill you since you haven't had the experiences I've had... Now please, lie down... You won't be weaker, it'll make you stronger and expand the years of life you have by a great amount... Thousands of years perhaps... My magic is not a magic that can destroy disease. If I could, I'd do that for whomever would wish to be cured of lycanthropy or vampirism... Please, calm yourself." Her voice still remained so calm, so serene... As if nothing was wrong. "Like I said, it's a chance that it was a lycan... I was raised by a pack of normal wolves, that one was bigger than any normal wolf that I've know, but smaller than other lycans... If you keep this up, you know, you're only going to make your bloodrate increase, which'll only spread the disease faster... Though it's not so bad. I mean, it differs from one to another... But you've got a good month to let the thoughts set in... A month, then the full moon, and you'll be able to shift then... It'll be uncontrollable for almost a half of a year or more, but you'll get the hang of it... Then it's nothing..." she shakes her head and adds "Look. I've never told anyone this, but my family knows. My brain was so helter-skelter that I was going insane... I... Almost killed myself even, because it was getting so bad... Now... Now that my mind is run by instincts, which are base and clear, I don't have that problem. The disease can be good in some cases, and bad in others... Look at the positives of this... It's all that can be done."

"No, it has to be undone," he insisted, cutting her off before her first sentence even formed. He stopped soon after that, though, and began to listen to her voice. Perhaps it was the magical tone of her voice, or the mention of an extended life span - thousands of years, really? - but he fell silent and watched her, light brown eyes flitting over her face. His heart rate was up, and his body shook with the inability to steady it, but he was acutely aware of an ability to hear it in the back of his mind, and he could smell the very obvious scent of bird, but stronger than that, Raziel's own scent, and something more faint that he couldn't quite distinguish, and then most prominently the scent of fresh cloth, the white gauze that was wrapped around his wounds, and he suddenly thought something of this. "Oh," he said slowly, settling back into a sitting position from where he'd been trying to get up. He didn't lay down completely. Instead, he rested his back against the wall next to the cot and breathed out a slow sigh. This, too, seemed more instinctive than it had in the past, and he was both fascinated and terrified by this revelation. He seemed to be thinking for a long time, and then he raised his eyes up to the woman. "Will people hunt me?" he asked, and this seemed to be his main fear. "Will they look at me and know? And call me things, and think less of me, for being something else? How will I... How do I know, for sure? Surely I can't just wait a month of not knowing, to see if I change," he whispered.

Raziel blinks, raising a brow. "Dear... Could you tell, the two times you met me, and even before I told you, that I was becoming a lycan? No, I don't believe it crossed your mind... Nor anyone elses... As long as you keep the fact to yourself, most people are senseless about the matter... My father calls me mutt, but he calls me child too. So, if he calls you such, that's just his demeanor. He calls everyone something to that extent. Others, I don't know. But most wouldn't go hunting a lycan just out of the blue, unless one had gone on a rampage and killed..." she sighs and shrugs "Alright well... I'm 337 years old. Elf and all... Even though I was rather secluded I recall hear tell about people hunting lycans. But that was a long, long while ago. A lycan is still a humanoid. So most, I'd think, will treat you no different... Vampires, perhaps, but only because many will see you as a lycan, not a blood bank... I used to feed vampires blood, now I can't and that suits me fine. But here's my tip for you. And it's simple." with a shrug she simply says "Who the hell cares what society thinks? Everyone in society is different. Elves, Drow, vampire, lycan, human, dryad, gnome, troll, ogre, orc, and so on. Does that sound like you should care what you are? You're going to be a different race, yes. But you're going to be -different-. And trust me, dear, different is good as long as you're not someone trying to destroy the world, or children and so on. Now, I believe you should get some rest... You're over working your mind.”

Kyros took her words in and nodded. His breath was very slightly labored, as if sitting up were a great task, and he had yet to be able to do so without pain. "You're over three hundred? Really?" he asked then, and after a moment, his head fell down, sighing lowly when he thought about her speaking of her boyfriend. He'd not yet heard that she was taken and, though he was just the same, he felt a slight pang of jealousy within him. Why, he didn't know. Very rarely did he covet upon women, and those he did were simply an act of returned affection. Never did he find interest in someone who didn't have any in him. It was quite strange. The matter at hand managed to drag his mind, albeit slowly, away from that, and back onto himself. His body and his mind, and the changes that may be going on inside him. And yet, he knew, as he had from the moment he woke, that something was different within him. Something, surely, had been not so much removed as replaced, in his body and mind, and while he tried to cope with this in his head, he reached out and placed a hand over hers, gently closing his fingers around her own. He seemed now to need some reassurance, some closeness of some sort.

Raziel shrugs "Well, yes. I grew up in a dark forest mostly alone for a very long time, and when I first came here I hardly even knew most common sense. But, age isn't an important factor for elves, I suppose... I wouldn't know. Never learned even the tiniest bit about my own original race. Though I've always considered myself a wolf." she blinks as his hand touches hers, she would naturally know what he was thinking though the copper chain about her neck, holding a ring carved perfectly out of diamond... A perfect loop of diamond, really... Would be the proof that she did have a boyfriend. With a sad voice she says softly "I truly am sorry that this happened. My only hoping is that you aren't exactly the alpha type... Or I fear when I fully change, and when you do, that we may not wish to be friends were that to happen..." she carefully moves to gently perch upon the side of the cot next to him. "But, as I said, I can answer any questions you have to the best of my abilities whenever one comes to you... Or, were someone cruel enough to hunt you down, seek out my home in Cenril and I'll keep you safe in there. Though I have majorly high doubts of that ever happening."

"The alpha type," Kyros spoke, his hand pulling away when she moved, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Still, the touch had been friendly and nothing more. He had learned quickly in life that not everyone had such high moral ground as he did, so whether she had a boyfriend or was single, he'd not make a move on her for the simple fact that he was, in fact, taken. And perhaps in love. But he moved his hand nonetheless and let it fall with his other into his lap. "Alpha... dominant... has never been a trait that I identify with too strongly. I am, I suppose, weak because of it... I'm not competitive, nor am I confrontational... just very strong-willed." He looked to Raziel then, and wondered if his mind would change the way hers had, if somehow his mannerisms and thought processes would slowly shift into something else. It was no use lingering on it now. "Thank you, Raziel," he said after a moment, looking down to his hands. "I expect I will have much to ask you... If I am to prepare to change into wolf in a month's time. Though, really, I will have to take much of it in stride... if nothing can be done." His eyes shifted over to Desparrow then, where he lay still on the cot, his chest rising and falling slowly. "Did he get bit by the thing, too? If I change... he will change?"

Raziel blinks at his words, taking off her fedora for a moment to brush her hair back with her fingers. "Well. Being an Alpha is something both born with someone and taught to someone I suppose... It's more or less inscribed upon your soul, as my wolf father taught me... It could be that you are confrontational, and such, but that it's hidden within you somewhere. We'll all just have to wait and find out... And you're very welcome. I'm glad I can help when I can... If need be, I can teach you to hunt deer as well..." her hand gently goes to touch his shoulder, her touch so light he'd probably scarcely feel it at all. "And taking it in stride is the best way to go..." She faces where Desparrow lay, Yerrel nodding in answer and Kraar telling her that he had nodded. "Yes... Desparrow was also bitten... Erm... He's an elf of some sort, no? I'm sure he'll be changing as well, though I'm not positive... Why wouldn't he?" his question confounded her a tad.

Kyros kept his eyes on the elf in the opposite cot. He nodded slowly. "Yes, he's an elf," he said quietly, biting against his lower lip briefly and then looking back to Raziel. His eyes scanned over her. "Because," he said quietly, unsure of how to explain the 'why' to his question. Surely Desparrow would change, too. There was no reason he wouldn't. Except, that wasn't Kyros' real reason for asking, and he wasn't sure, even, why he had asked - perhaps he just wanted to hear it spoken. "I wouldn't want to change and become something else if he wasn't, too. I wouldn't want to be a wolf, and not be able to... have him there with me, to help me, and to assure me." He shook his head and sighed, eyes dropping to his lap again. "But I don't want this for him, either, any more than I want it for myself. I just don't want it, but I suppose if we're together..." he trailed off there, not wanting to say anything more. Anything that could be misconstrued. "It doesn't matter. I will tell him when he wakes up," he said quietly, watching her, and seemed to have less trouble sitting than he had at first, but hardly. His breath still came in uneven strides. "Everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?"

Raziel nods, knowing she was correct in Desp being an elf, though she listens to his reasonings. "I can understand what you say. I have a friend who advised that I not become a lycan unless I make him so as well... I could never do such a think and his brother would be greatly angered if I ever bit anyone... So I know the feeling of not wishing someone to share the same fate. You care for him, and yet you don't wish to be such without him. It's sometimes easier to have someone their help you through things, isn't it? And it's your choice to tell Desparrow... I believe her too has a right to know the possibility..." his last question makes her nod "Yes. Yes, I believe it does... Fate must have something in store for you indeed. Now dear, how about you get some rest, perhaps? Unless you're hungry for something?"

Though he seemed rather put off to the idea, Kyros nodded and moved to get back into a resting position on the cot. He closed his eyes once his head came to rest on the pillow. "I'll tell him first thing when he wakes up. He'll know what to do," he spoke quitely, turning his head away from her then, so that when his eyes opened again he was staring at the plain wall next to his cot. He seemed, for some reason, to put quite a lot of merit in Desparrow's ability to look out for him. A slow sigh left his throat and he slung both arms gently over his chest, curling them against his body in an attempt, perhaps, to return to sleep. He surely couldn't eat anything now.

Raziel nods "Perhaps that would be best... Make sure he's fully conscious when you do, though, or he may only partially comprehend your words..." she moves the chair back to where it was before sitting in it again. "If you'd like I could sing a song of sleep to get you to rest sooner... It works on my children, but you aren't a child so I'd rather ask you first... Mayhaps I should leave you to your thoughts?"

Kyros seemed to like her last idea the best and nodded, his eyes closed, as he waved his hand. "Yes, leave me," he mumbled, "I have a lot to think about." He sighed then, and had not quite let her make it all the way out the door before he said, "Or, perhaps, if you wanted to, you could sing to me." It was likely that as soon as she started to sing, he'd fall asleep. His body still had a lot of resting to do.

Raziel nods at his words, standing and heading to the door, though she is stopped by his next words. She ponders for a moment before going back to the chair that she sat in and begins to sing a beautiful yet wordless lullaby, weaving her magics into it and concentrating the song upon Kyros’ form. She felt that rest would be far more important than lingering on what couldn’t be changed. When she believes him to be asleep she stands and goes to leave once again, telling Yerrel “I’ll be back to check on the periodically, until they can leave… For now, I must return home to my adoptive children. Thank you Yerrel.” The healer nodding and bidding the woman farewell.