RP:Eyes

Summary: Aurore has always avoided settlements in her travels. She prefers the wilderness, where she can keep well enough away from war and disease and greed. Having crossed into Lithrydel just days ago, she is moving through Xalious and hunting game as she goes. A chance encounter with a lycan named Chasity, and their subsequent encounter with a stray saurian, forces both women to evaluate themselves through fresh eyes.

Somewhere in Sage Forest

Chasity stepped up to the rocky cliff, eyes closed, taking in the scent of everything around her. It smelled beautiful, alive, even. She prefered this form, unlike most of her kind. She laid down in the grass. The wind felt amazing, it seemed to be running across her fur; it was so relaxing she could almost fall asleep. Being a born lycan had its benefits, like being able to travel in wolf form, completely in control. She always felt more relaxed in this state. Being only slightly larger than a normal dog, a distant onlooker might even mistake her for one.

Aurore is motionless like the bird she stalks. Perched knee-deep within a vast patch of blood-red grass, the woman has all but vanished. Her breaths are slow, her heart is steady, and her aim is precise. The arrow rests upon the bowstring. A distant clawing sound, like metal on wood, alerts the fowl and causes it to scamper just before Aurore lets loose the arrow. It plucks the ground with a swoosh, and Aurore’s would-be prey bulges its eyes and flees the scene posthaste. The woman curses softly, rising from the grass and taking a few soft steps toward a fresh vantage point. She remains alert to the source of the clawing -- it’s somewhere approximately forty meters south-by-southwest -- but for the time being, it’s only an unfortunate distraction. Peering at her surroundings while regaining her bearings, Aurore espies what might be a dog, and blinks. “An odd place for one,” she mutters to herself, as she is often wont to do, and so she rushes from tree to tree in a stealthy bid to sneak up on it and ascertain its purpose. At present, she has no idea it’s a lycan.

Chasity lays in the grass, enjoying the breeze. No people here to pollute the beautiful fresh air, no rodents currently scurrying around her to pester. However admist the peaceful moment, she hears a frantic fleeing animal, turning her head, she sees nothing out of the ordinary. Thinking only of nature doing its work, she lays her head back down; only to get an unfamiliar and unnatural smell. 'People' She groans exhaustivly to her herself. However, not seeing a threat, simply laying her head down and trying to ignore whomever was coming would suite her just fine. But something kept nagging her brain fiercly.

Aurore crouches down slowly behind an ancient oak, leaning into a chasm in the bark and slinking into its shadows. Her breaths are, once again, subdued. Although she has been ranging since dawn, she is not yet tiring, and her hunger has been curbed through a steady supply of fruits and nuts. Even so, with the shade of late afternoon cresting the canopy, Aurore is aware that she must soon make camp. This dog is a distraction, nothing more, from her need to locate game. “It’s not as if I’d eat the dog,” she continues muttering, in a hushed whisper that might do to mask her whereabouts. “I’m just curious. It’s normal to be curious. A dog. Here? That’s rare. Maybe he’s hunting, too. Maybe he can teach me a few tricks. Yeah.” Satisfied with her own argument, she moves swiftly from the oak and back into tall red grass, where she crosses the remaining distance light-footedly. “You’re not a dog,” Aurore says with a start, standing up and putting her hands in the air slowly and methodically to indicate she means no harm.

Chasity snaps her head around to see the woman standing there. 'A human, coming so close to me? Strange' Her own thoughts ramble on for a minute. She yawns at the woman, and lazily stand up and stretches. At full Height on all fours she stood almost five feet tall. She looked at the woman, intelligence burning in her eyes. 'A dog, now where do you get that from.' She thought for a minute, 'Well i suppose if you're half blind you may think that.' She scoffed to herself. She was taller than any dog, her teeth far sharper, which during the yawn she purposly exposed, just to make sure the woman wouldnt be trying anything. Chasity walked a few steps closer to the woman, who would hear a soft womans voice in her head. "A dog? Heavens no. I am no flea bag wanderer." A soft lilt in her voice let the other know, she meant nothing truly mean by it.

Aurore watches the lycan with a scout’s eyes, the eyes of a woman who has spent most of her life tracking and seeking and ascertaining. Before Chasity has so much as spoken a word, Aurore has determined her posture, her probable stance in combat, and the likelihood that she will attack. “Provocation was not my intent,” she says crisply, legs slightly bent at the knee to maximize maneuverability should it come to blows. As slowly as she’d raised her hands, she lowers them, and her gauging gaze becomes curious. “My vision isn’t impaired. You blend in well with your environment. So well, in fact, that you almost appeared to be a whole different animal. It’s an impressive talent, however inadvertent.” Aurore offers a curt nod. Before Chasity can reply, however, the metallic scratching is overheard again. This time it seems closer, and more easterly than before. Aurore’s eyes dart to match the source, and she reverts to a crouch, right hand on her bow. “Do you recognize that noise? I do not.”

Chasity listens to the woman babble on about, well, she didnt particularly care. But once the sound became pronounced, she too turned her head to the side to glance at it. "I do not. Frankly if it isnt attacking, or bothering me i do not care either." She may sound harsh, but the barely visable scar from her paw to her shoulder always reminded her of why you shouldnt go around poking your nose where it doesnt belong. Especially if you dont know what youre getting into. And even though that was so long ago, and she had been so powerless then, the lesson took well. "I advise, leaving the sound alone, until it becomes a problem." However, her stance would prove to the woman, that if needed, she would indeed fight. All the tendons in her legs and back were taunt, and she was ready. She watched in anticipation, the direction the sound eminated from.

Aurore side-eyes Chasity for that remark, deepening her crouch. “As if I was planning on attacking a sound,” she snarks, letting go of her bow subtly in a bid to seem more convincing. Chasing the potential threat was, in fact, hot on Aurore’s mind, after all. A moment passes. Birds chirp, and then they trill, alarmingly. Aurore cranes her neck to observe the treeline, paying close attention to the scattering of a small flock of blue-green thrushes. The clawing sound returns with a vengeance just seconds later, sending a bug-hunting fox scurrying into the underbrush. Aurore bites her lip, weighing whether or not to speak further to the stranger. It appears she has decided to avoid further dialogue, because she takes ten careful, steady steps to the left to better-cloak herself amidst wild, tangled ferns. The clawing sound is barely ten meters eastward when next it happens, and a fox -- perhaps the fox they’d only just seen -- barks and yelps and squeals. It’s dead. Aurore refrains from drawing her bow. Instead, she retrieves her trusty iron-shafted wooden spear from its hoist upon her back, and she wills herself calm, and prepares.

Chasity smiled to herself. However, in this from, a smile may look more like a menacing grimace. However, the death of the fox, meant that whatever it was, was getting closer. She watched with the strange woman, who seemed to be hiding in the shadows. She stood still in the clearing,listening, learning. Hearing the footsteps, listening to the breathing, the blood flowing, anything that would tell her maybe what was coming, and maybe; if she could calm it before it came to blows. As always, seconds grew to feel like hours. But she stood completely still, watching everything at once.

Aurore | Two meters in length and with sharp, pointed fangs and sharper claws on its spindly arms and chiseled legs, the deinonch is a particularly talented saurian. It has wandered far from its territory near Chartsend, a victim of the recent human migrations into the uncharted west of Lithrydel’s frontier. It is lost, confused, and hungry. Very, very hungry. It snarls, ravaging the tenth tree with its claws as the fox’s blood trickles down its chin. Not enough. This is not enough meat. The deinonch needs more meat, filling meat, fatty meat, juicy meat. It snarls again, narrowing its yellow eyes to scan the area as it sniffs for the source of that sweet, tantalizing scent. It finds the women, and its mouth waters. The meat will suffice. In a sudden gallop, the deinonch bursts through the grass, tilting its tail into a perfect horizontal arc to heighten the force and accuracy of the jump that it is about to take. | Aurore gasps at the galloping predator and twists her lithe body to the opposite side of a tree, straightening her spear defensively and taking quick stock of the situation. Is the stranger hurt? Is she holding her own? If she requires assistance, this will be a difficult duel, especially with the bloodlust in this creature’s glare as it makes ready to slice them open…

Chasity let out a low growl. One that rumbled through her chest, seeming to reverberate through her body, and finally rolling out of her mouth. "There will be no calming you. Your mind is gone to the bloodlust of others, and for your sake, and the sake of this forest I will terminate you." As the creature began to jump so did she. A full body tackle,had her and the unknown creature rolling on the ground. She could see the bloodlust, the pain, and in the end; the suffering of this poor thing. "Dont worry,I will help you." Biting visiously into its side, her sharp fangs tore off a hand sized piece of skin. However, in turn, it seems at though it had gouged her neck slightly. The blood poured from the wound, but it seemed to have just missed the artery.

Aurore did not expect this turn of events, and her reaction time is stifled. Having anticipated a more direct combat with the saurian, she must now contend with the fact that it and the stranger are on the ground, rolling and feasting on one-another. Determining an ally is easy, of course, but deciding how best to aid Chasity is another matter altogether. Steadying her legs and relying on their taut muscles, the huntress leaps, driving the tip of her spear into the distracted deinonch. It howls in protest, snapping its jaws at her menacingly enough that she hops back, primal fear in her eyes. Aurore swings her spear, giving the enemy pause as it climbs back up onto its feet to face the newer threat. The deinonch hisses, licks the considerable wound Chasity has given it, and hobbles to the side. “I’ll help you, too,” Aurore breathes, and she drops her spear and clutches a serrated knife from her holster, jumps back -- nearly collapsing onto an unexpected branch -- and tosses the knife at the deinonch’s skull. It sweeps its tail to deflect, but the knife gets lodged into its neck. Manic now, it reaches out with its claws to rip Chasity to shreds if she doesn’t act fast to end its suffering. It shouldn’t be so hard, what with all those wounds they’ve inflicted.

Chasity looked at the creature with pity, how sad it was to her. Even in its manic form, the blood pouring from it was making it dizzy, and slowed it down considerably. She sweeped to the right, just before the attack hit, with speed that would have been hard to follow to an untrained eye. In its confusion, she grabbed it by the back of the neck, sinking her teeth in deep. It let out a terrible screech, and with one quick motion, Chasity flicked her head and roughly broke the creatures neck. "You, whose poor soul was condemned into this prison body. May you be free and find happiness in the great beyond. Im sorry your last moments were confusing, and scary. May you forgive me in the end." She could only imagine how she looked right now. Fur sticking in each direction, matted up with blood, both from her and the creature. She looked feral, and the thrilling glint in her eyes didnt help. How she loved to hunt, to kill, to be stronger than her prey. But she hated that she loved it.

Aurore loves the hunt, too. It’s a part of her, a vital piece of her upbringing, the centerpiece of her education, her way of life for years and counting. She has not often looked upon another and seen in their eyes a closer bond with the hunt. Today is indeed a rare occasion, then, because standing here, gathering her manmade spear and collecting her manmade knife from the corpse of a vagrant saurian, Aurore Soval feels almost ashamed. She feels hollow as a huntress beside Chasity, who gives rites to the dead whilst all but salivating at the untamable vigor of the kill. Whereas Aurore’s weapons are of design, Chasity’s are intrinsic. Whereas Aurore’s skill is learned, she wonders if Chasity’s is instead utterly natural. She quietly collects her belongings and studies the stranger. “Do you require medical attention?” Five simple words. Aurore is not sure she has it in her now to say much else.

Chasity could feel the stinging in her neck growing, and her vision dimming. "I could use a bandage. It got my neck well, and i fear without medical help i may just bleed out." Oblivious to the womans concerns she turns from the creature, hating to kill it, but loving the way it feels to be covered in its blood. Thats all that matters in a pack, is how much you can kill, but for Chasity, she couldnt hate it more. Her legs gave away beneath her, and she fell in an ungraceful heap. Her breathing became hard, she closed her eyes, fending off the headache from blood loss.

Aurore is reaching into her woolen satchel when Chasity falls, but she’s quick enough that she almost slides across the earth to catch the lycan mid-tumble. Almost. Kneeling down, ankles in the mud, Aurore wraps Chasity’s neck with a bandage tightly enough to hold firm but loose enough to maintain as much circulation as possible. “This too shall pass,” she whispers softly, monitoring vitals. There’s a great deal Aurore does not know about lycan physiology, but she knows enough to be sure her bitterleaf-and-almsgiving poultice will help, not hinder. After she applies it, she takes a small vial of harbor honey brew and lifts it to Chasity’s mouth. “A few sips will help. If you’d rather not trust that I mean well, then refrain, but I think this will prevent inflammation.” She says it all so matter-of-factly, and afterward, she starts a fire with the few fine branches in the immediate vicinity and sets to carving and skinning and roasting a slab of the saurian’s leg. It’s all so methodical, the practiced motions of a seasoned traveler. The stars are peering through the canopy and the foxes are back to their barking.

Chasity felt the woman wrap her neck with a snug bandage. Drinking the medicine will speed up an already excellerated healing process, but the chance of infection and swelling made her drink. Highly unlikely anything the woman would concot would give her more than a stomach ache, lycans can be a hard breed to kill after all. She laid there, content to do so as the woman made camp, a fire and some food. However, before it got to late she should leave. She too lusted for blood at night. The urge to kill was undeniable. She always controlled it, but it was simpler without prey around. Getting up on all fours she looked out at the sky. The stars sparkled and glimmered in the sky, always producing a sense of wonder in her. "I thank you for your aid traveler. If you had not come along i may have not made it out so easily." she turned back to the woman, and gave as formal of a bow as one could in this form. "I am Chasity. It was pleasant to meet you, even under unpleasant circumstances. However, i must be going, i have buisness to attend to."

Aurore observes the stranger as she peers at the sky. Despite their differences, the two women seem to share an affinity for the stars. Maybe it’s something united across hunters, or maybe she’s a traveler, too. Perhaps the simplest answer is the truest: all who wander the land find a mystical allure in the unattainable things high above it. “And I am Aurore,” she replies, smiling amicably. “I’m glad to have met you, Chasity. May your journey be fruitful.” It was an old salutation among her tribe, and it has always held meaning for her. Once Chasity has departed, Aurore will stargaze, laying on her back in a secluded nook and wondering what the dawn will bring. Her eyes shimmer to reflect the starlight, and she knows her own journey will never end.