RP:Speak In Rounds

Summary: Khitti patrols the Sage in search of the white wolf that bit Meri while Alvina, the wolf responsible, follows the werewolf link to Meri's greenhouse, unaware that it belongs to the blonde. They meet, bare arms, and then the wolf runs off. Both women are slightly closer to the answers they sought before they began.

Forest of Shadows

The days of summer were quickly dwindling and with that came the cool winds and rainy days of autumn. Today was no different as Khitti made her way through the forest, attempting to track the wolf that’d bitten Meri and made the blonde one of their kind. It wasn’t really that Khitti hated werewolves. Oh no, far from that. Khitti’d been a part of that world, the one of monsters and creepy crawlies that attacked and fed on the living. This was personal. This was about self-preservation. How many times had she put down undead and dark magic users of any type when she was a vampire necromancer herself? Well, unfortunately for Khitti, she didn’t have those vampiric senses anymore or else this hunt would be a hell of a lot easier. In addition to that, her faithful Tikifhlee was being quite the stereotypical cat thanks to the downpour and refused to help track with the scent from the clothes Meri had found. Without these to aid her, the templar was basically in the dark on her little wolf hunt escapade. It didn’t matter though. The redhead still pressed on as she slipped between the trees, olive-green eyes peeled for any sort of movement of anything at all, be it beast or humanoid. She passed by ‘The Greenhouse’, Meri and Callum’s home, a slight frown forming at the thought of her sister, but the black leather-clad and hooded female didn’t stop for a chat as she often did. With Diamond Dust and her quiver strapped to her back, and newly purchased silver-steel swords on her hips, she continued on into the Enchantment, past the stream and the trembling tree, heading on into the Forest of Shadows, following what was clearly wolf footprints--whether it was the white wolf or not, she was sure to find out. The rose gold circlet that normally adorned her form when she summoned up the magic armor bestowed upon her by the sprite in Tenbatsu Kaji was called upon and floated nearby its mistress, attempting to pierce the darkness in this part of the forest with its holy fire’s light.

Alvina herself had very little knowledge or memory of the encounter. Her wolf was young still and their understanding of one another was one big, dramatic mood swing from day to day. Hudson’s advice served to keep her from fighting the urges to shift. Most days, simply becoming a little forest wolf was enough. Run around like a dog, basically, and dig up their yard. Growl at squirrels, sniff tree roots and toss sticks. A glamorous existence from a Cenril Socialite. As far as the bard remembered, she’d been forced to shift and had come at...someone. Someone she knew. But the person hadn’t died. Thank the gods. The werewolf link had popped into existence though. Even as a human, she could feel the tether of her mind towards this portion of the woods well before she’d allowed herself to come searching, in that white wolf form. The Wolf GPS was stronger when shifted, even in this lesser state. Alvina’s wolf neared the Greenhouse well after Khitti did. They’d looped each other, Alvina’s sense of direction wasn’t exact unless both women were shifted. Meri must not be. The white wolf didn’t recognize this place, nor did the bard within. It pants, prowling around the building and sitting down near the door for a short time. Was the other wolf here? She can’t tell. With a whine, Alvina encourages the shared mind between her and the wolf to move away from the building. Maybe Alvina can visit as a human and get to the bottom of it later on. Back through the woods, the white wolf moves silently through the brush. A flare of light bursts through the darkness and the wolf momentarily lowers itself to the ground, white fur trapping dead leaves in it’s fur. Danger, spelled in big block letters, throbbed in her mind’s eye. No, no. She won’t bite another person. But the wolf feels territorial. This threat is near the house where a member of her pack now resides. She protec. Alvina’s wolf follows the light source until it’s snuck close enough to see a hooded figure with MAD weapons. A glowing, levitating sword? What the… The bow catches arctic eyes. Familiar. Dangerous. Danger. It pulsed through her consciousness with a shockwave force that threatened to knock her down to the forest floor again. Alvina wants to run. The white wolf wants to stay. Deeper still, the true beast within wants to stay. Khitti might hear the crunch of underbrush as the white wolf pads roughly behind her in an odd half circle, shaking it’s muzzle as if it was being attacked by some invisible thing that bound it’s mouth closed. ‘You will not,’ Alvina yells at the wolf, who isn’t doing much to heed her anymore. The wolf moves forward one step, stumbles to the right, tries to about-face but returns to the previous ‘forward’ position.

Khitti heard that crunch of leaves as the wolf tried to approach her, for there was hardly any other sounds to mask it. This part of the forest seemed to be even less lively than the one in Vailkrin and it was a wonder that it didn’t unnerve Khitti entirely. The redhead was far too in ‘the zone’ however; an almost vampire-like snarl came from Khitti, the remnants of the life she left behind when she died. Quick to light up the area where the creature was, she grabbed the tiara and flung it towards the forest floor where the sound had came from. The headpiece’s light flared, keeping itself floating just above the grass. The templar saw the way the wolf stumbled a little and narrowed her eyes at it. Was it rabid too? She didn’t entirely -want- to kill the beast, if it was indeed the one that attacked Meri. But… she had to protect the people in this area. In Cenril. In Frostmaw. Everywhere. It was a threat that needed to be eliminated. Careful steps brought Khitti closer towards the wolf, one of the silver-steel swords pulled from its sheath, “You’ve got yourself into quite a bit of trouble, haven’t you?” Was she mocking it? Trying to see if it would shapeshift back? Who knows. Khitti was winging it at this point--it’d been quite awhile since she’d been on a hunt like this.

Alvina’s wolf continues to struggle against her until the light flares again, closer than before. It yips, as if pained, and stumbles backwards again. There’s a shift that backlights it’s eyes. They are intelligent and aware but still on guard. The light was a dangerous attack, in the wolf’s mind, and Alvina was being overridden for survival protocol. Though Khitti moved slowly, the wolf bared it’s teeth to her in warning. I am dangerous too, it seemed to say with it’s taunt legs and primed body. The glint of metal, caught in the holy light, makes the wolf snap, lips pulled back to reveal large teeth. The wolf’s sword of choice. Coated not in silver but a curse it would happily apply to save it’s own life. Khitti’s voice stirs a reaction, the wolf’s lip lowers and it shakes it head violently before turning it’s body eastward and breaking out in a full run AWAY from the human with weapons. This was not the plan, the wolf insisted to Alvina, who knew the huntress now. Khitti. It was Khitti. Panic floods the wolf’s body and it rustles underbrush and disturbs leaves, making no attempt to be quiet or graceful. This was about speed, distance, escape.

The showing of weapons was made… and then the wolf ran off? There was a brief headtilt on Khitti’s part, like a dog whining in confusion. It wasn’t rocket science to know that a lycan was intelligent, even in their wolf form, but this still was odd. There was hesitation, but ultimately the redhead gave chase. Even if she wasn’t going to kill it just yet, the need to follow it, find out where it slept, where it fed, was necessary. The sword was sheathed once more (running with sharp objects is about as dangerous as hunting werewolves, you know) before booted feet took her off in the wolf’s direction. The circlet followed along beside her, near her feet, illuminating the ground. That wolf was far faster, unfortunately, but in its wake it left quite the path for Khitti to follow. Oi. She was going to be tired after all this running. Who’s idea was it to get rid of her vampirism? Oh. Right. It was -hers-.

The wolf makes good time and distance but it can’t (or more likely -won’t) run forever. It isn’t in the blood. Little Miss, as Alvina calls her, wants to FIGHT. Her pack member was nearby and needed to be protected from the wolf hunter!! Leading the woman away would be good but giving her a solid warning would be better. A mark of territory where the wolf really had none here. The white wolf stops running, but pants instead in the shadow of an ancient tree that twists overhead menacingly. Again, it fights against itself. Alvina doesn’t want to fight anyone! Especially not someone she knew! She hadn’t wanted to fight the other...woman. It was a woman. She’d known her but her face won’t come to mind. The wolf’s temperament holds steady against Alvina’s humanoid opinions of flight and avoiding conflict completely. If the wolf hunter followed her, she’ll have to fight her. So the wolf, now in control of the ship, turns back to face the direction she’d come and waits low in the weeds and rotten wood for sight or sound of Khitti’s pursuit.

It’s too bad for Khitti that she really didn’t know the ins and outs of lycanthropy. It was unfortunately never something she studied up much on, considering all those years of hunting was done against undead. There were some similarities between this wolf (and likely the other lycans) and those undead--the fighting between two minds; the one that hungered for flesh and the one that wanted to be a normal person again--but alas, Khitti wasn’t privy to this. Out of breath from the running, Khitti nearly skidded to a stop in the old tree’s vicinity. Drawing in and letting out heavy breaths, the redhead attempted to calm herself, tried to slow that heartrate of hers before she keeled over (that’s what it felt like at least). The tracks she’d been following just seemed to disappear, to which Khitti let out a growl. “Maybe I -should- get Aira to help me…” She wasn’t going to ask Meri. The blonde was still recovering and getting used to her new abilities, as well as taking care of that Catalian of hers that’d nearly been murdered by witch-hunters. Olive-green eyes peered around the forest as the wolf hid, a frown lining Khitti’s lips while a slew of Catalian and Dhavislaavian curses flew out from between them. She’d hoped this would be easy, but she should’ve known better. While there may be similarities between the undead and lycans, the lycans were far smarter--most of the undead Khitti hunted were being controlled by various unsavory folk like necromancers, after all. With it seeming like the hunt was over for now, she took her time to regain her composure before she’d attempt to set off towards home.

The wolf stayed still and silent, snowy ears tucked back against it’s skull and tensing it’s legs to spring. When Khitti came near the tree, the surge of humanly emotion dominates the shared space and Alvina feels as if she’s holding the wolf down by the scruff of its neck. The beast trembles but still manages not to make a sound. It stays low and silent until Khitti leaves the area. Only then will it reappear and take off in the opposite direction. Alvina, tired from having to play beast master, wills them homeward. To the house in the Sage to redress and reappear in polite society. Red hair, Alvina thinks as the wolf breezes through the shadows and dead things. No...the woman she’d bitten wasn’t a red head. She was blonde...like fields of wheat in glistening sunlight. -Who- was she…?