In the Heat of the Night [enkashi!]

[Lion]

By the light of the fading pale moon, it didn't seem like an evening were a stone would be cast upon the ripples of peace.  There were malicious cries of avarice in the distance as a pale figure ripped through the thick wood at top speed, the sound of horse hooves clomping the soft ground behind him.

It pained Dietrich to take every step as he ran through the Draconi Forest, body bleeding, from seven or eight arrow wounds.  Exhaustion ran through him.  Not just from the blood loss but also from the fact that he literally hadn't slept in seven days.  A vampire, especially one as moderately aged as he is, should never go that long without proper regeneration, respite, and rest to function properly.  Even with enough rest, a vampire could die from too much blood loss.  Despite the fact that he had pulled out all of the arrows, his wounds continued their bloody trail.  Dammit! Why wasn't he beginning to heal now?

He quickly veered a left around a bend, hiding behind a thicket of trees, the sound of the hooves coming closer.  By the sound of it there were only eight riders, all armed with various blades, spears, crossbows, torches, and the gods only knew what else they had on them that could be Dietrich's downfall.  Compared to them, he was armed with nothing but the clothes on his back, the strength of hands and the agility of his body.  He scoffed at weapons.  To him hands were either tools of creation or weapons of destruction; he always seemed to choose the latter.  But even that might not suffice under those better equipped than he.  Perhaps not even time would be in his hands.

Ever since attacking those damn Anarak slaves at the tavern Dietrich was convinced by Remilius to leave Beniste castle while there was still time; the dark elf had foreseen, in an incantation, the oncoming siege from the House of Anarak.  He saw reason and unwillingly obeyed the advice of his only friend, though he hardly considered the valet as such.  All he had to do was keep a low profile in the forest for a substantial amount of time before receiving notice from Remilius that it was safe to return home.

Now, like some kind of senseless idiot, he had stirred up trouble with a small but fierce band of renegade hunters from one of the local villages.  They had chased him north since the fall of twilight, he'd managed to evade them up until now.  He was sure he could tear them all to pieces if he wasn't so damned exhausted, even his strength might be deteriorating.  The thought made Dietrich's mouth water, surely the act of such bloodshed was enough to awaken the hunger in him.

Still he attempted to catch some fragment of respite, pressing his blacksmith-built body against the tree's trunk, hearing the hunters' hooves near his hiding spot.  The sound of a harsh woman's voice called out commands to a few of the others.  She must be the leader, he thought grimly.  There was the unveiling of several swords from the pack and gruff cries, all as bloodthirsty as marauding thieves.  The horses' hooves pranced about, not one rider dismounting.  "Come out, come out, dear little bloodsucker", "Maybe we'll go easy on you, if you show yourself", "When we find you, we're going to rip the shit out of you, little bastard.  Then roast your remains on an open fire!"  There was a malevolent laugh followed by that last one....  As well as a deep howling sound from somewhere close by.

[Anonymous]

The forest, at this time of night was a dangerous place. The vampire there was not the only one who had been slightly careless. This forest belonged to the creatures of the night... well, so the stories went. They were certainly waist deep in it, now, at the time they realized it. A howl did indeed come, thick and hard, with rage surging through every second it lasted in the misty nighttime air.

Like the exhalation of a great monster into the cold night air, a thick, rolling mist surged from the forest, and in seconds, every last soul, the vampire, and his hunters, were shrouded completely. The horses upon which the humans sat became quickly uneasy, like any beast with the common sense god gave a snail would have, in that unnatural fog that consumed every last soul in that area.

Breaking from the absolute blackness, a pair of eyes, here and there, would watch the scene. A pair of angry eyes... ones that burned like great gems in the night with their lustful fury. The vampire, a decidedly dark being who had no real friends to call his own... had been intentionally passed over as the source of the passionate being's rage. As that being perched upon her tree, an invoulentary growl surged from her great throat, and her free hand was thrown foreward to form with her own flesh a mark that had no common translation, the formation somehow ominous as her bestial voice called out words that likewise had no mortal meaning, her eyes affixed upon the horses the humans sat astride.

With alien cries escaping their throats, the shewolf turned their viscerra into pulp, crushing the weak creatures' gore instantaneously. The response was immediate; in a bloody rush, their eyes exploded, their tongues leapt from their mouths, and from every orfice, their liquefied organs came out in a gurgling rush, leaving the once mighty creatures' skins flat on the ground, and the blood surging over the vampire's hiding spot, like a crimson tide, while their riders were forced to stand of their own might, the looks of horror frozen on their faces.

"That should make things more... sporting." the shewolf murmured to herself, and grinned, every last one of her pearly fangs bared in the long, long rows of teeth in her maw. The scent of the horses' blood was intoxicating... but there was nothing for her to eat there. She would have to settle on human flesh... even though it was Vile... and she'd likely want to let the Vampire have his fun first. After all, he looked like he needed something like that, with how doggedly he moved as those humans had chased him. Pathetic... he was hardly her prey.

[Lion]

His head burst in the direction of the great howl, ominous and resonant like a lost echo in a dark cave.  The stealthy, unnatural fog flowed into the area as an omen would to a prophet, in a matter of seconds he felt almost completely isolated.  While still pressed to the tree, he heard the disgruntled agitation the howling and fog had brought upon the hunters.  The men were cursing anxiously, speaking with shaking voices.  Only the female remained calm, although it was quite evident in itself that she was struggling to restrain the fear that shanked up her spine.  She tried desperately to compose the demeanors of her companions.

Dietrich brought up a grim grin to his wan face.  He no longer seemed worried about this most unfortunate plight.  It was as if a helpful voice was repeated the words that had aided him for years... Nunquam desperatio.  "Never despair," he said to himself, his whitened teeth showing, canines gradually growing from their normal length.  His eyes flashed from their normal electric blue to that sinister cat-like yellow, with the vertically elongated pupil.  These were the eyes that instilled fear in mortal hearts and made them run in terror, the eyes of the wild, the eyes of an untamed beast,  the eyes of the night.  Beastly eyes owned the night.

He clenched his fists with all the strength he had, pushing his knuckles further and further until the bone protruded through the skin into deadly spikes.  Such a tactic was painful indeed but incredibly useful when you needed a little something extra when striking a foe with fatal force.  

Smelling the air, Dietrich faintly detected a presence quite close by.  Wolf, was the only conclusion he could come up with yet he wasn't too sure of it.  Was there a den or small wolf society nearby?  There were fewer explanations that made themselves readily available at the moment.  He pushed the racing thoughts from his mind, deciding to focus more on the moment at hand.  He would certainly give these bastards a run for their money.  Ha!  They hadn't an idea just what they were getting themselves....

Suddenly there was an ocean of blood at his feet, the blood of animals and the anxious voices of the band were more audible now than they were previously.  The blood reeked of rotting horses but there was something about the scent of death that invigorated him.  He felt more alive now than ever.

Dietrich stepped cautiously from behind the tree, using the fog as the perfect cover.  Immediately unveiling the guise of the silent assassin, he tapped into pure primal instinct and leaped upon the first hunter before him.  Grabbing him in a fierce vice, he sank his fangs deep into the man's neck in a bite that made him cry out not only from pain, but the ultimate sense of fear.  The red liquid dripped vigorously as Dietrich hardened the bite and finally tore out his jugular.  Blood spewed from the hunter's dismembered throat like Old Faithful.  But as rapid as was his own attack, it seemed the rest of the seven banded together despite their horror and surrounded the vampire.  A large dagger sparked like nightfire and made a dash to his chest.  He dodged the attack in the knick of time as the tip of the blade only shredded his shirt, inflicting a thin gash across his torso.

He grabbed up the assailant by the collar, attempting to strike in him down in a single blow with the marrow spikes of his right fist, but just before the tip of the bone made contact with his skull, a sudden jerk around his neck yanked him backwards.  The lead huntress pulled on the thick, lengthy bull whip with surprising force.  Dietrich gagged, pulling at the tendril wrapped around his neck as she dragged his body with her towards a stalwart evergreen.  He tore at the infernal whip with all the strength he could muster but could not break the leather holdings.  She swung the whip back once more, dragging his broken body along sharpened rocks as she said, enjoyment in her voice, "Don't bother trying to break the bindings, vampire.  It's been blessed by a holy priest to be impenetrable to evil.  That means filthy little souls like yours!"  With that she uttered a miasmatic chuckle that echoed in the dark fog like a witch's cackle.

Thick ropes were wrapped around each of Dietrich's wrists in death knots as they tied him through the tree.  His blood loss and lack of rest had left him more weakened than he had considered, despite the blood he had gained from his first kill in days.  The whip was beginning to burn his neck as the final knot was made.  The grunt who pulled out the knife called out from his spot beside the huntress, seemingly still shaking in his boots, "Any last words, worthless bastard?  Might as well say 'em now, since you'll never see the light of the full moon again!"

Dietrich coughed, licking the blood left from his lips, and managed in a guttural voice that ached, "Fuck you!  You slaves are all fucking fools...."  He smiled suddenly, a frightening grin that was followed by a malicious laugh.  Despite being tied to a tree that was about to be burned along with him, and having suffered terrible blows, his laughter rang aloud through the forest as if this had been the greatest day in all his life.  His chuckle slowed when the faces of the hunters all turned ghostly white.  Dietrich's eyes wandered upward to the tree in front of him, just a few steps behind the hunters.  Heightened sight had its perks after all as he saw a pair of midnight eyes flash through the fog.  Finally he muttered aloud, smelling the now thick wolfen air, "The eyes..."

[Anonymous]

... Were a lot closer than the vampire had anticipated. Looming just behind the lot of them was a beast... no, a beast was something men were used to. This... looming over their heads like a demon, was no beast. It... she... was a monster, a terror in their nights that their mothers told them did not exist, for to save them the pains of horrible dreams that such terrors would bring.

Her fur seemed to repel the unnatural fog... his savior's fur was brilliant white, blinding in the moonlit darkness, projecting its own little glow of sorts as the first of many claws to come tore the female leader clear in two pieces, the blow having come from the back of the group, to spray her entrails all over the men she had enlisted to help her. They were cowards... and she was dead before her torso, face frozen in shock, before she even hit the ground, her heart exploding from the shock of her beyond-any-doubt mortal wound.

As the men stood there, stupefied, the werewolf stepped on their one-time leader's chest, and crushed it like a grape under her great paw, growling lowly and ignoring them completely as she, using a single claw, flicked away the simple ropes, for all their supposed blessings, like they were bits of twine, freeing the vampire from his unpleasant prison of worldly twines.

It was then that one of the warriors drew the courage forth to drive his blade deep into the shewolf, piercing her chest through the entire way, poking through her glorious white hide and causing the wound to bleed caustically, seeping inbetween her fur. It was a lethal hit, straight to her heart... and as the shewolf looked down, briefly stunned, her mind reeled at the pain, but mostly... the prospect of dying so carelessly.

She wasted no time panicking... time flowed as if molasses to her, as she frantically moved thoughts, like great weights, around in her mind, her thoughts sluggish already from the loss of blood flow. She would be dead, and quick, unless...

Unless that was not a silver blade.

Feeling around the wound mentally, with what energy she had to think, she soon realized that... no. It was not, in fact, silver. A grin matching the vampire's own crossed her fangs, and she stood erect, wresting the blade from the shocked man's hand, to turn and look at him. His friends... were far too deep in the grip of horror to be that brave.

With that wicked grin on her face, the shewolf's muscles tensed suddenly, and the blade... actually snapped in two. The hilt fell out easily, but the rest... would be offered as a show to the horrified men who could not help but look on... as the rest of the blade slowly slid its way free from her breast, forced by the movements of a heart that she forced to beat once more, and the motions of her abdominals and lungs that would not give up. By the time the inferior edge left her body, what it had destroyed was already reforged in the heat of her large frame. Taking it in her hand as it left her, she grabbed the man who had hurt her with it, and filled his thoughts with steel and bits of his now fragmented bottom jaw and tongue, offering the grotesquity to the vampire as a pick-me-up, the rest of the men finally shaking themselves free and took to fleeing that fog-clad forest. They would have a rough time of it.

Looking back at the vampire, her gold eye stared at him. She did not have to ask if he was okay, she knew he would be... she just wondered wordlessly if he would be pursuing what prey she had provided him or not, her intense stare somehow marking her feminity in that bestial form.

[Lion]

His glowing yellows, stood transfixed as the animal bounded boldly from the its treetop perch.  At first, seeing the eyes, brought back terrible memories of almost being eaten alive, but they vanished as soon as they entered the tempest raging alive in his skull.  As he stared into those flashing eyes, and as they stared back at him, the memories were replaced was an inexplicable entrapment, a hold on a wayward segment of his mind that was lost to him since--  Since--  Damn, he simply couldn't recall...  "Or," a distant murmur whispered to him in the back of his mind, "maybe you just don't want to remember."

It happened in the swift sweep of the ever-blowing wind, the creature had slain the huntress in a quick swipe of her claw, cutting her into two even pieces.  Incarnadine not only splattered the men around her, but splashed Dietrich across his face.  The action occurred at such a rate that it seemed the huntress didn't even have a chance to scream for on her facade was frozen a look of ultimate surprise.  What a terrible way to die!  Not even a chance to utter final horror.  Dietrich widened his sinister grin as the wolf crushed the disembodied torso without any effort whatsoever.

He was more than grateful at the wolf's effortless breaking of his bindings.  Though his thoughts on the creature itself, he was unsure of at the time.  He had vengeance to reap upon these gutless buffoons who thought high enough of themselves to think they could become vampire hunters, let alone renegades at that.  If they had the sense of a goat they would have joined up with an established hunter order, such as the House of Anarak or Scarlet Vanguard, instead of trying to form an amateur group of would-be vampire killers all on their own.

The show the white-haired wolf put on was intoxicating.  It took quite the ambition to break a longsword in half with one's own body let alone push it out of the body with the power of abdominals, lungs, and the beating heart.  All he could rely on were the powers of external forces and the ability of his body to quickly regenerate any wounds received in the process.  He grasped the offered skull in his hands and crushed it further with the full force of his hands, unbeknownst to him the rest of his energy such actions were exerting on his already worn body.  With that the remaining members of the marauding band fled in breakneck speed.  Or at least, as fast as their mortal legs would allow them to travel with panic still fresh in their blood and two hungry creatures of the night directly in their wake.

Dietrich rubbed the slight burn mark on his neck left from the whip's wrapping.  He sheathed his spikes.  The artist in him called for speed and agility for a kill of this capacity. He knew what his mind wanted, what he wanted, the bloodshed of five foolish men caught up in the elusive illusion of courage; killing demons for the good of mankind.  Bah!  What good did man do to anyone but bring upon havoc to himself and all those around him.  He was well aware of the fair share he had suffered as one, before this gift was bestowed upon him.  Gazing down at his crimson covered hands, he now allowed his mind to assess what had just happened.  He had been rescued by a wolf...  No, not just any wolf...

A werewolf.

His brows raised in blank surprise.  Ignoring his hands he looked up at the creature before him, having to do so because it was an entire foot bigger than he was.  It was massive for its size, undoubtedly strong as he had just witnessed, yet not of the generic territorial males he had encountered once or twice during his travels.  This one was distinctly different.  This one wasn't like any other.  This one was...female.  Dietrich could read the intensity burning in her eyes that he recognized could only belong to a woman.  He also allowed his eyes to take note of her feminine frame.  Strange for a werewolf to maintain such a shape.  By least in his mind, he didn't know much about werewolves after all let alone shewolves.  Never had he seen the conspicuous bright white of her fur.  It glowed, unlike the black or brown coats of others that seemed to absorb the night.  He could describe it only as -- for lack of a more sufficient word -- beautiful...  Through all the emotions and seethings winding in his mind, the most prominent appeared to be curiosity.

Despite his hunger, despite his anger boiling in his blood, his brain shifted like clockwork.  Human deaths caused by some supernatural creature, be that wolf or vampire and regardless of area, always seemed to come to the attention of a hunter house, usually the one nearest to the slaughtering.  The realization that those five renegades would more likely than anything else run to the nearest order, explain their plight, then have the best of the best of the order's hunters to investigate happenings to find the culprit.  When all was said and done they would finally come to the predictable decision of choosing to smite the vampire with every weapon in their arsenal.  No, human deaths were never good unless they were done without any witnesses and the utmost secrecy.

Dietrich inspected the slash on his last good shirt.  The damage to the article of clothing was undeniably irreparable.  First off, because he had no idea how to mend clothing, even something as simple as shirt.  Without minding modesty he tore the thing off of him, the inflicted arrow wounds and dagger slash having already healed and leaving only vague scars.  He now willed his body to alter, his mind and psyche concentrating on the only animal he could change into: a black dog.  This form was unlike ordinary dogs, more wolf in instinct than anything and three times the size of the average dog, muscle bound and black-furred.

He concentrated harder, but all for naught.  While his mind strove to change with fatal ambition, his body no longer could provide him the strength to perform the action.  With the hours of the first rays of the dawn drawing nearer with each passing second, Dietrich slumped to the forest floor at the shewolf's feet, completely succumbed to the darkness of unconsciousness.  His chances of survival were bleak if he was taken to a place shrouded from sunlight without delay.

[oh yeah, congrats on your fist hundred posts! :] ]

[Anonymous]

The shewolf stared at her collapsed vampire that she had put forth so much effort to rescue for the humans as he just let them go, and in doing so, accidentally allowed them to return to their pack, and... she knew, deep down they'd be back. She was, however... not willing to chase them herself. By the time she'd catch up, they'd have regrouped, and then they would have been prepared for her. She would not be so lucky again. With enough trauma, she'd die, just like anything else... a hail of flaming arrows, a couple spears, and she'd be done, just like the man at her feet. She was no god... she was not all powerful. Sighing, she let go of the beast, and the creature, grinning and satisfied, relaxed.

With a shudder, the human inside her came ripping to the surface, the brilliant silver fur once displayed upon her body receding into her flesh once more, her skin hor to the touch as her alabaster skin returned  to the surface. The little beast in her mind, that voice that was always there questioned her accusingly, for it was not the beast who wanted to help the vampire. If it were up to her, he'd be dead, and she'd be eating a nice bear right about now, instead of going hungry. Wrapping her arms about herself, the now elf-like woman, with long, elegant ears and flowing silver hair down to her hips, kept away the cold of the night by her own embrace.

Her form was long, with legs that went on forever, beads of sweat on her scarred, but radiant skin. She was a mighty woman, as was the nature of lycanthropy, but she was not without her own nymphlike beauty. She was, however, the kind of girl that would look best in a suit or a tribal outfit. Smiling at her Vampiric catch, she bent to scoop the exhausted man up, and off into the forest she strode, with him pressed to her flesh. Why she really wanted to hlp him so much, she had no idea.

------------------

The vampire would awaken in a burrow, and judging from the scent of flowers and sweet things, it was the cave of a woman who had a lot of grace to her. Beside his bedside sat two things; a vial of what was without a doubt preserved human blood, about four pints worth, sealed in alchemist's flasks, and clothing... what he was wearing before, except cleaned and mended, with meticulous precision... and on the other side of him, slept a silver-haired elven woman, wearing what must have been bear skins. She was unconcious, sleeping quite peacefully, curled defensively into a ball on the bare ground, while the vampire obviously slept in her bed, comprised of furs and pillows filled with what must have been the feathers of a very large bird.

[Lion]

He surrendered completely to the reign of deep sleep, both body and mind drifting casually, muscles lax, beneath the deep ocean of dreams.  There was a blankness before his mind played the nocturnal images that were dreams, an empty black, surrounded by a ghostly, ethereal mist as if the Nexus gate to the different realms of the mind.  Suddenly his brain sparked back a memory, a strange one at that for Dietrich never chose to remember the peaceful times when he was human.

He was back in his father's blacksmith shop, well his since his father had retired the winter before and passed the business along to him.  His tanned face, warm and young; he felt as if he was watching this dream as a scene from a dramatic work acted before him.  He could not control his actions, but merely watch them play out.  He calculated his age at the time, about twenty-six.  The year things began to fall apart.

Dietrich, with his sleeves rolled up and sweat on his brow, had been hammering down on final piece of the day, but it seemed this particular length of steel was taking up much more time than he had initially intended.  Perhaps that was due to the fact that it was not ordinary piece of steel, but in fact a very rare kind that was highly sought after in and around his village.  The ordinary iron and carbon that went into crafting the alloy were curbed by the addition of the extremely rare orbican metal.  Such a metal was such a rare finding that it became legendary; known only as the type of metal used to forge the weapons of mythology's warriors and heroes.  Orbican was very mysterious in fact, some could conclude it as a metal while others, particularly alchemists, considered it something much more powerful.

And he considered himself one of the lucky few to have gotten his hands on a piece.  But it made the orbican steel, as this type of alloy came to called, incredibly tedious to forge because of the heightened melting point and virtually invincible durability.  However the odds against him, Dietrich was determined to hammer out every last dent if it killed him.  He didn't mind though, it was good exercise.

He wanted to finish the steel as soon as was possible for he wanted to give it to Cecile's father as gift.  As a way of showing that he was worthy to have as a son-in-law.  To allow him time to do so, he had sent away his apprentice of which was one of the only girls in town who had desired to learn blacksmithing instead of the work her mother so desired her to take up and learn.

A few more hours passed as he shaped the final dent out of it, quickly throwing it into the water basin he kept nearby and gave it a finishing buff and shine.  The result was one of the most beautifully finished blades he had ever seen.   The cooling process was unusually swift and he wrapped it up accordingly.  Finally he made it to Cecile's house, knocking on the door rapidly, his heart pounding against his ribs with anticipation.  Her father opened the door and...

Dietrich's body stirred slightly as he gripped the pillow with an angry fist.  His mind was too entrapped in sleep to awaken now, but his mind mercifully skipped what happened within the house and went straight to what happened afterward.

He gripped the wrapped sword with the utmost frustration.  How dare that man accuse him of such things? his brain exploded.  He's a bastard to hold such prejudice against me!  Well, I'll find a way to prove myself to him, that filthy soul.  He'll know that I'm not just some poor blacksmith's son unworthy of his daughter. He'll know somehow...

The moon was rising overhead, unleashing the dark and terrible night that was the first of a wave of rueful happenings.  As he neared his shop, out of the oncoming shadows, a man ran towards him.  "One of the miners," he thought.  There was urgency in the miner's eyes.

"Mr. Chapel!  Oh, Chapel, sir, something terrible has happened," the miner took a moment to catch his breath.  "The mine! The mine has collapsed.  Anything and everything in it is destroyed.  Oh, by the merciful gods.  Everything is gone and three men are dead."

Dietrich was awestruck.  No, not the mines.  Like a child, he was not concerned for the dead miners that were unfortunate to have lost their lives in collapsing stone, but the fact that there would be no more iron being mined.  And if there was no more iron being mined, there would be no more iron being shipped to his shop witch, meant that he would be out of business.  He would lose his last source of income...

But most importantly he lost his chance to prove himself...

"No," Dietrich muttered as he turned suddenly on the fur-ladened bed, his eyes still closed.  He swam upwards from the layers slumber's ocean until he reached that halfway stop between sleep and awake; the place where he could regain consciousness, but still felt in dream.

His hands began to feel his surroundings as if they had their own volition, feeling and inspecting the softness around his bare body.  They reached the edge of his left, his fingers felt something soft.  His brows furrowed in a strange confusion, enclosing the softness in his fingers with a gentleness unknown to him.  Fingering it gently, his senses recognized the object as hair, but it seemed too soft to be so.  They crept forward, searching for the owner of such soft hair until the tips came into contact with the warmth of living flesh.  Quickly his hand retracted as Dietrich returned to complete consciousness in a flash.

Bewilderment filled the spaces in his skull, which knocked heavily as if he had the worst hangover ever.  Indeed was the case, a vampire that allowed themselves to fall to exhaustion would awake with terrible punishment, for doing so, which was why rest was so important.  Where in hell's name was he?  How did he get here and more importantly where were his clothes?  His eyes went wide in shock, not that he was that modest, but he had absolutely no recollection of what happened between his collapse and his awakening.  Spotting the articles folded carefully beside him, he picked it up and saw the careful mendings.  He didn't know how many hours had passed since he had fallen asleep, thought he did feel the slow drag daylight brought.  He certainly was clueless about where this woman had come from.  He hadn't awaken with a woman beside him in... well he didn't care to remember how long.

Curiosity overcame him, the rest he had gained giving him a sufficient amount of energy to lie awake until the next morning came.  Peering carefully over the woman's shoulder, he observed her sleeping quietly.  Assessing the curves of her face, despite whatever vague scars she held, he had do admit, she was fairly beautiful.  There was a quiet semblance about her, albeit she slept, and he noticed her pointed ears and silver hair.  At first he thought she was a nymph, but the bearskins and long legs altered his assumption.  The nymphs he saw didn't have long legs so the only alternate conclusion he succumbed to was--

"Elf," he whispered softly, unknowing how close to her ear he was.

[Anonymous]

With a flick, the she-elf's ears perked and slowly, she, still mostly unconcious, drew in a deep breath as she collected herself and sat up, eyes still tightly closed. Elves were beings of the Reverie, related to fey, so dreaming was a deep and profound experience for them when they actually did sleep, and even then, sleep only came in the form of meditation. For her though... she honestly slept. She was not a full-blooded elf.

Sliding open together, her eyes, one brilliant topaz, like a piece of molten gold set in her comely face, shone softly in the dull light of the burrow in which they rested, and the other was emerald green, not glowing at all, but most definately elven by nature. She was a halfbreed of sorts, or at least something comparable. As she looked at the naked vampire before her, she did not blush much at first, just reached to draw his blanket over the male's lower body, and then she blushed just a tiny bit, and offered him a nymphish smile.

Her bear skin clothing was too big for her, it showed. As she sat up, it draped over her shoulders a little, giving her an impish sort of charm as she sat cross-legged in front of the vampire she'd rescued the night before. Smiling cheerfully, she, without a word, reached to the two vials at the vampire's bedside and offered them to him. She was definately trying to feed him, and she was obviously savvy to the fact he was a vampire. Really, she'd been trying to feed him for a while: vampires needed blood, she knew that, or at least thought she knew that.

[Lion]

~Earlier that morning~

"I swear I saw it with me own eyes!" said the burly man at the table, his coarsely aged hand agitatedly shaking as he put the his beer glass to his lips.  It's foamy top brushed against his furry lip as he continued with his story, "I'd certainly be dead if I hadn't escaped in the knick of time!  It was the biggest monster I'd ever seen.  White fur, h-h-horrible fangs, and eyes that could kill you instantly in its cunning stare!  It-it ripped three of me friends into pieces as if they were-"  His voice caught in his throat as he struggled with his next words.  His listeners, most of them fellow travelers who hadn't been to familiar with these lands, leaned in as to listen more closely.

"Aww, come on Hargriff! Were what?" another man close by him said.

The one called Hargriff downed the rest of his beer, which wasn't much, and a licked the caterpillar on his lip to get the rest that didn't make it into his mouth.  His eyes twitched dizzily now but his anguish was real and vibrant.  Taking a deep breath, he went on, "As if they were delicate fragments of withered parchment.  Their skulls smashed as if dust and bodies slashed in half by terrible sharp claws that could decapitate you in an instant if you let it get close enough to your neck.  It's wolven jaws could devour a man's head whole if is so pleased it.

"I, and a few others from me team, were lucky enough to escape with our lives!  Isn't that right, Hy'garde?"  Hargriff turned to the man sitting beside him that slimly resembled him.

"Aye brother, 'tis true.  'Twas a werewolf it was, that saved that fire-haired, blued eyed vampire!"  There were incoherent murmurings within the tavern room at the mention of the word 'vampire'.  There had been a string of mysterious happenings thought out the village; animal slaughterings and three missing people.  Most of the townspeople's nerves were on edge and the mention of 'vampire' seemed to be the only logical explanation they could come up with.  But now a werewolf...that was an entirely different matter.

A woman sitting in the back corner with bluish-black hair, perked up from her spot at the mention of the word and walked towards the two brothers.  "There's a vampire in this area you say?" she inquired genuinely.

"So, you know.  What do you gander of the situation?" Hargriff answered.

"I think the Vanguard might be interested in investigating," she said simply.  She grabbed up her pack and departed from the building with the men staring after her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dietrich saw the faint rose tint reach the nymph-like elf's cheeks when she move the fur blanket over him.  His lips curled in an amused grin from the action; she reached over for the blood vials and handed them out to him with an endearing smile.  Cocking an eyebrow, he took them in his grasp and excitedly drank one of them without his own volition.  He would have chosen to drink it more carefully rather than downing it like a parched animal would to a freshwater stream.  But no matter the warmth of the preserved human blood spread though out his body, endowing it with amounts of energy that charged him like a machine.  But doing so was like drinking coffee without eating food; the energy without the drive.  Well, at least that would sustain him for a while.

Wiping his lips, he looked at the impish form the bear skin gave her.  It wasn't as generous as the clothing he was accustomed to seeing on people he met, but he suspected that she didn't have much.  The pallor of her skin made her seem a little dead, but with the muscle tone under it he reconsidered and knew very much that she was alive.  It was an unusual combination about her that made Dietrich wonder.  Finally he voiced the question that had been bugging him since he had awakened, "What is your name?"

[Anonymous]

Without skipping a beat, the white-haired woman with two eyes of a different color just offered a warm smile, and said "My name is Moon Stream, but my mother called me Aysel. Either one works: they mean the same thing either way." she said, and stood slowly. "As for a surname, I have none: My people do not recognize the tradition of naming a family, for naming such a thing would be disrespectful, but sadly, they are all dead anyway, so it does not matter..." she paused a thoughtful moment, perhaps to emphasize, or perhaps to express something deeper, like the fact that she had moved on from the lost of her family
"... at all."
She finished, and added a thoughtful nod. That question answered, she stood, and with only a little trace of a smile, she strode around the bed where he lay a quarter circle, head bowed slightly, but eyes on him intensely. She was on guard, keeping her watch on him for a respectful moment, before turning and striding into an area that looked like it had been assembled recently and with some haste, a curtain of deer skin concealing a small corner of the cave, sewing supplies and bits of clothing near it. This was where she kept her clothing and where she had likely repaired his clothes.

Anyhow, she strode right inside, and shut it behind her. She was changing clothing. The sound of coarse fabrics rubbing against flesh, and fine rope squeaking across fine rope were heard from that little sub-room of the cave, and a minute later, she opened the little room again, and strode out. She wear clothing that was a lot more like armor, comprised of hardened leather, tempered and cared for meticulously to have a specific texture that gave it a little sheen in the right light, and allowed there to be fur on places that needed a little extra protection. The armor was seemingly sized twice, once that fit her perfectly, and with slipping knots that lead to a size much bigger. She wore no actual leggings, but a single-piece bottom that left her legs entirely open, and a sash that covered the front of her legs and the backs of her legs in the softest muscles: the ones on her inner thigh, with simple flaps of fur that allowed her full range of motion. This was definately elven clothing: her hands and feet were left totally bare, and her feet look as if she uses them for locomotion in the forest, bare.

As she stood there, adjusting her clothing, she smiled again at him. Really, she had a little visible tone to her muscles, visible mostly when she moved, but still there to an observant eye, her elven heritage making her have the frame of a dancer, but obviously more strength than a woman her size and body type should have... a lot more. Through all her motions, her long silver hair hung straight down to her thighs, with forelocks hung in front on her chest, braided with several feathers and dark red ribbon. These decorations were not just ornamental; they were called Gnosi, things that some elves wore, and a good deal of pack-oriented werewolves wore; each had a meaning, which was likely lost on the vampire, if the fact that they were tribal symbols even managed to catch his eye as something terribly strange.

Either way, these markings were the way that her family and all of their line before them, marked those with the magical spark... and the red ribbon meant that she was the last like her, the last of her family, and that she was on a road of blood because of that. A vengance taker, or someone who had already taken her vengance for the death of her family.

[Lion]

In the moment which she departed from the semi-room to her makeshift closet, he was left to his thoughts.  "Aysel," he repeated the name to himself.  Well, it certainly seemed to match her personality from what he witnessed.  She had been smiling at various moments to him; either she was exceedingly generous or simply a morning person.  Most likely both, he thought.  He, on the other hand, was obviously not a morning person, after becoming a vampire made him used to being active during the night hours and gaining respite after doing so.  And the issue of such kindness and generosity being offered to him on a silver platter was definitely a matter that was alien to a person who knew the basics of cruelty and violence.  The prevalent reaction of which others reacted to him, be that fellow vampire or human, were usually disgust, seething hatred, or blinding fear, feelings he never reproached but gladly accepted.  To him, it was better than being treated like an inferior.  Vampires who knew him reacted such because they did not approve of his behavior.  With humans, it was merely for that fact that he was a vampire.  And this woman, Aysel, must know that he was a vampire for she offered him blood.  And yet there was no fear in her to be read in her differently colored eyes...

He pondered the matter over for the brevity of a moment before taking the opportunity to get dressed, he didn't want to remain bare in some strange woman's burrow for the rest of the day.  He reached over for the clean clothing he was sure that she had mended for him; he would thank her for this later.  Slipping on the undergarments he had, he shifted to the side and grabbed the immaculate black, woolen trousers and pulled them over his muscle-bound legs.  His body, though not overtly muscular like some warrior or professional boxer, still had the build of this blacksmithing days.  Of his lean muscles were a strong chest and carved abs that attributed to his durability and strength.  The healed cuts, burns, and thrashes he had received the previous night had scarred and were already beginning to fade.  Within enough time even the scars would be completely gone.  

He pulled the keenly sewed shirt over his head and smile at the skill.  It was damn well better than anything he could execute.  Regardless than his mother was a renowned seamstress and had taught him the basics of mending clothing because he was the only surviving child, he let the knowledge seep out of his head when his father retired; there simply was no room for sewing in his life so he felt that could do well without it.  Perhaps he was wrong...

Dietrich combed his dusty fingers though his disheveled, auburn hair.  His hair was impalpably wavy and its shade could be compared to the dark of blood or the wild of fire.  It was once said to even appear blue against the light of the moon, but that was a mere opinion of a victim whose spirit went on to tell the tale without a bodily vessel.  A person's description of it could change with the time of day, but its true shade was definitively the cross of brown and red; incarnadine to put it in short.  Nearly every feature about him was his father's: curl of lip, his straight nose, cheekbones, ears, and hair.  But his eyes were undeniably his mother's.  At first glance, they were appear as blue as any other, but when gazed upon in the right light one would see how they sparked as if ridden alive by an electric current.  There was a certain mysticism in them that held the pain of so brief a lifetime, but were persistent to enough to continue living.  Different people would describe them differently, but they all saw the lightning within them.

When Aysel returned from the closet lapped in what Dietrich could only describe as peculiar warrior's armor.  He couldn't make out the various symbols on them, instead taking his best guess that they were signs of a specific tribe, either of lineage or proof.  She had mentioned about her family earlier, could these be of it?  He couldn't concur as much yet.  He had many questions to ask her.  Tucking the rest of the shirt and holding the blood vial carefully in his hands, he began tentatively, "How did I- I mean, how did you find-  What am I doing here?  Could you tell me how you found me?  And most importantly," he held the vial upwards towards his face, staring piercingly at the dark liquid, "how did you know what I am?"

[Anonymous]

"Well alright then, sleeping beauty"  Aysel began, nodding a little to him. "You are here because I saved your life, simple as that. I saw you, and did what came naturally to me. You... however... probably saw something completely different from what you see in me right now. Last night, I had been hunting, and, lucky for you, I had been hunting at that very spot." she paused, and shrugged a little, casually.

"You have guts, Vampire... I respect that... but as to how I knew what you were, it is aweful hard to track a wounded man who has a scent unlike that of the living, and is bleeding too much, yet not giving up and passing out." she said, and gently pulled a strand of hair from her face to put it behind her ear.

"So before we go any further, We need to establish two... no, three things." she said, and took a step towards the doorway of the cave, covered by a bear skin. "First off, I shall need to have your name, dear." she said, and pulled it open gently and peer out into the fading twilight. "Secondly, why were those humans chasing you like that..." she said, and paused, allowing him to catch up and answer her questions

[Lion]

Dietrich was taken aback by her abrupt forwardness.  His feet unfeeling to the cool, smooth, stone floor, he had stepped from the soft fur bed.  Though it wasn't much of bed, its intricate layering created a padding for adequate comfort, which, he supposed, was enough for her.  It was hardly relevant to the moment.  He strode from the comforter and leaned against the burrow opening across from her, folding his arms over his chest in a casual stance.  As his eyes inspected her he found her height nearly matched his, off by at least an inch, but of little matter.  Height always seemed to be helpful in so many ways.  The sudden burst of fire from Aysel was enough to spark his keen interest and little did he know that he grinned while she spoke of the events between then and now.

For a brief time his minded drifted to a distant place, before finally honing in on what she was saying.  It was all beginning to match up correctly now.  Until this advent, he lived in the fog of things, but at least things were beginning to make sense now.  His mind visualized the white-furred creature from the evening before, long of fang, golden eyes, and strength beyond natural means didn't seem to match up with this graceful woman before him at all.  But something inside of him convinced him that she was telling the truth.  Could it be that part of him that was made alive by her fire?  It was possibility, but Dietrich didn't allow himself time enough to dwell on it, he could think about such things later.  There was a rapid, vague sparkle that alit his aqua eyes when she placed the rebellious strand by her ear, however his focus was impenetrable.  "So you were the wolf," he said bluntly.  "I never expected en elf to transform in a werewolf before, but I guess surprises are just the beauty of existence." He chuckled slightly to himself before she asserted inquiries of her own.

A faint sense of alert perked his head up when she asked his name.  Identity was a very precious issue to every vampire.  A vampire sometimes changed their identities more often than they did clothes.  As she pulled the bearskin curtain aside with great gentility, he too set his eyes to the outside, the sky being overrun by streaks of color from the recession of the sun and relinquishing rule over to the moon.  A small stream was nearby, the sound of running water was audible to his sensitive ears.  By the quit of his pause, he finally decided to answer her harmless question, "My name is Dietrich Chapel, a name of certain infamy in the area of my home and even a few places abroad.  By breed, as you've guessed, is vampire, which aren't exactly wanted anywhere we go and as we travel we face too many dangers, among them are the reputable vampire hunters."

He sighed and scratched at the scar on his left eyebrow before going on, "Last night, I was driven by wild hunger to attack some cattle in the nearby farming village of Unai Mata.  My attack was hardly successful, and after being caught, I ran into the wood.  Those people chasing after me were a band of renegade hunters, meaning they were not apart of an established hunter order like the Scarlet Vanguard, the main hunter house of this area.  I hadn't slept in days and was at starvation's door when they attacked me and I tried to outrun as best as I could until you showed up.  If you hadn't intervened, they probably would have roasted my remains over an open fire."  Pausing once again, he choked out his next words, but said them very gravely, "I thank you for helping me.

"Those men that got away though.  I doubt that's the last I'll see of them, or we for that matter.  The news that there's a vampire in the area will have likely reached the ears of many angry townspeople by now, probably even a Vanguardian or two."  Dietrich's eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed directly into her eyes.  In a hardened voice, he concluded, "The deal of a vampire is one thing, but a werewolf included in the matter makes the situation all the more alarming.  The odds say they'll not only be after me, but you as well.  But aside from that, what was the third thing you had in mind?"

[Anonymous]

"The third thing? We're leaving. Now." she said, and took a step out into the fresh evening air, her hair catching the waning light just right and shining to reflect that light in a milky kind of tint that surrounded her like some kind of aura. She was serious: it showed on her face and inher mannerisms: she wanted to get gone while the getting was good: no sense revealing her den to the humans for them to hunt her out of.

"Ready yourself, Dietrich.... we need to make some good ground by the time day breaks... we have half the entire forest to traverse before we can rest." she said, and strode down towards the stream she'd made her dwelling near, arms moving little as her head swiveled about and got a good sense of the surrounding area.

Her elflike, pointed ears flicked as she turned her head to and fro, and the ears moved a little on their own, blanketing the entire area in her range of perception, as she shut her eyes after having given everything a good looking over. Her ears pierced through barriers her eyes could not, and now that she had deprived herself of her own sight, her ears could hear them... accurately, with only a few moments' pause for focus.

At first, she only heard her own heartbeat and breathing... then, she could pick up the vampire's movements... then, a fish struggling on the bank of the stream in the cacaphony of the running water... then fish.... IN the water... a bear... a family of deer... and soon, everything within a good 400 yards was accounted for. She could hear the snapping of a twiglet under a bird's agile foot if she wanted to. With that confidence in mind, she started to work her magic.

Her fingers moving in several patterns across the air across her midsection, her motions leaft brilliant blue trails of energy that crackled softly as she murmured her incantation. This was arcane magic, the study, or natural talent and practice of it. It was methodical, though, reeking of wizardry rather than the intuitive magic of a warlock or sorceror.

Carving a circle in front of her with her magic, she paused and completed the incantation to look back at her guest, and motion her towards him hastily. "Come, come... We have a quick way to travel and a loooong way to go... this trip will take us all night even with my magic to get there safely." she said, readying to insert her wrist into the ring, which was big enough for two people to fit their wrists in without hitting the wall of the ring that still blazed brightly in the twilight.

[Lion]

"Leaving..." he mimicked, parrot-like, but decided it best not to contest it seeing the amount of determination in her eyes.  Immediately he understood her reasoning.  Sometimes the best way to protect your home was to leave it behind.  Just like he had done so many nights ago.  Apart of him desired to return to Beniste no matter the threat of hunters, for, like a child, he missed the things that made his existence all the more enjoyable.  A bed to sleep in, his private store of blood and wine, and the others he had become accustomed to over the centuries.  Instead of running in the woods like a mad animal, starving and lack of adequate shelter.  But he could not go back until Remilius summoned him it was safe.  Only Hell knew what was happening to his home while he was in exile.

One the eve of the darkest twilight to come, the sun had gone down far enough that he would find the circumstances acquiescent.  She had gone out, he instinctively made a grab for the three vials of blood left beside the bed.  Placing two in one pocket and and the other in his left pocket, Dietrich stepped lightly out into the open, seeing the entrance of the cave, when seen at a distance, was conveniently hidden behind a thicket of trees.  Cool wind swept into his nostrils in a rush of night air, but the sweet scent of the cave was not lost on him; he placed the smell in a vacant memory in the back on his mind.  It was not often he came across something so sweet in his travels.

When he turned to see Aysel over the stream, he stood transfixed on the magic she was conjuring.  Having never truly seen a sight such as this, it both amazed and bewildered him, but his attention pushed forth through his fascination when she called to him.  Half the forest to trek in the brief hours of the midnight tide?  This woman must be off her rocker, but she wasn't wrong in the least.  There was not telling when those humans may have already begun the hunt and how close they were.  "Aye," was all he could word as thoughts pushed through each other in a frenzy of possibilities.  Dietrich prepared his large fist beside hers equally in the ring when the sound of human shouts reached his sensitive ears.  Though they were what he guess was a mile or two away, the sound echoed like a war drum.

[Anonymous]

Thrusting her hand through the ring before her with the Vampire, she too suddenly was made aware of the humans. Grinning, revealing what must have been the fangs of a wolf, she finished the spell, and the ring bound them together around the wrists.

"Do you know how a Flea travels? Are you even aware? Fleas jump many, many times their height in very little ammounts of time, with miniscule effort. They can travel many, many miles to scale with us... and that is how this spell works. It is my creation... many of my spells work like this: simply mimicing nature... but since we're doing it together..." she held his hand, entwining his fingers in her own "We need to jump and act together." as she held tight, the blue light of the ring started to gather about her, encompassing them both in a soothing glow of magical light.

"It's fun though... just trust the magic and jump when I do!" she cried, and squatted down into a jumping type position as the blue light formed a sphere encompassing them both. "Don't worry where we land... thats with the sphere does: removes the worry. now... one... two... three... Jump!" and with that, she leapt foreward

[Lion]

The corner of his mouth crooked in one of his trademark smiles, half cynical half amused; often with the strange combination of amusing cynicism caused this grin.  The sound of the men were definitely getting closer, but in the spur of a moment, Aysel and he would be miles away as he allowed the information of the spell sink in.  He didn't dare question for a moment the truth of the spell, elves had a strange way of making events happen.  If Remilius could raise the dead without any hesitation whatsoever, then Aysel could undoubtedly make them soar.

He returned the gently firm grip by which she clasped his hand, a strange effect came over him as if the bond made him feel stronger.  But as two clashing personalities converged once again within him, he was sure it was all in his head; he often perceived things that he knew couldn't possibly exist.  "So it's a bit like flying I guess," he suggested instead and his grin grew wider.  "I think I'll be capable of managing along."

Though, individually, he held his own ability to jump quite a considerable distance, far enough to simulate brief flight, his true form held wings that could transport him farther than any leap of faith.  However, he wouldn't dare attempt to change into that demonic slayer.  Albeit he reveled in bloodshed, this form was almost too far from his control, and he would avoid changing into this mindless killer if he could help it.

On her mark, he lowered his legs in a ready stance, all of his leg muscles clenching and tightened until the ultimatum was called.  He felt the surge of strength fly though his muscles as they propelled into the night air.  It almost did feel like flight, taking into the air at such speed, the protection of the softly glowing blue sphere made him feel as if in a falling star.  They tore through the trees and thick canopy.  He did not close his eyes, rather enjoying the sights of the dotted ground below.  He had nearly forgotten how small everything looked from above.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Vanguardian flag was held on a post at the head of the band as at least thirty hunters, every last one of them on horseback.  All of them were armed with weapons of sharpest steel: sword,s spears and others of the like.  The horses marched along in a rigid formation that made attacking in groups and switching tactics easier.  All of the Scarlet Vanguard fought this way, using their constant training and sheer numbers to overwhelm their prey.  This wasn't the only trait that distinguished them from the other orders, however.  What made them one of the best was the their ability to track, using talented retrocognates and those that knew the land like the back of their hands.  Though their success rate in catching prey wasn't the greatest, their accuracy was virtually infallible.

"What, ho there!" a marshal called out from the near front to the leader ahead.  Pointing into the sky, he asked to the woman leading them, "What be that beside the waning crescent moon?"

Up ahead in the distance was a descending blue light that appeared brightly against the star-studded night.

[Anonymous]

Not only would they draw close to the men who had amassed to kill them both, but they would, by this leap, be FORCED into them! They were going to hit them! Gritting her teeth, and settingherself into a dead drop, the she-elf gritted her teeth and curled her legs tight, so they would be ready to kick off immediately. In so doing, the ball accelerated down towards the ground, and towards the vanguardian warriors that had amassed.

Nothing could have prepared them for the kinds of speed and the cannonball-like sphere of blue energy coming their way, but prepare they attempted to, and in so doing, readied their spears and shields to brace for its impact, hoping to skewer it... whatever it was. As both forces drew closer and closer, every last involved soul gritted their teeth and prayed, hissed through their teeth, or simply sat in a cold sweat... but it was over too quickly for much else to happen. The Blue orb powered right through the barricaded men with their shields, and sent grown man and horse alike flying like ragdolls, cratering the ground a little where the sphere landed.

It allowed them to get a pretty poor look at the contents... it was a man, and a woman, and that was all they saw before the She-elf's legs decoiled, and sprang them back up again, leaving the broken sounds of men groaning and reeling from the blow in her wake.

[Lion]

His grip tightened on her hand as he body struggled to regain equilibrium.  When he did he loosed his legs and pulled his thighs close in front of him so that his feet dangled freely.  His free arm flailed out to the side in preparation for the landing because not only were they coming down, but they were coming down fast!  His face screwed in agitation as the pull of gravity increased the flying ball's velocity until they could no long gain speed and were now free falling.

The ground had come up faster than he had anticipated, his body was prepared far more than his mind and once again they plummeted up above the amount of bodies they hit.  Looking back briefly, he felt himself smile at the puzzled and wounded looks on the men's face.  His face changed immediately when his eyes fell on the red and white Vanguardian flag.  Little did he know his eyes laughed with a mark of boyish glee as the realization that they just pummeled through a mass of blood lusting, relentless hunters in the flash of an instant without so much as scratch on them.  He was beginning to like the spell all the more.

They soared through the air effortlessly, though things that come easily tend to be able to be done without much effort.  And so it was with this leaping, landing, then taking off again.  His body could endure much more abuse than a breathing human and with this stamina acts of such athleticism came and went with an ease.  He could feel that it must be that same with the elf woman who contorted her body to fit whether to land or leap.  They jumped together; it was little knowledge to him that had obeyed a command, but with his life at stake, the fact that he was obedient seemed trivial.  As always, he could think about this later, when he had more time.  And now was not the time.


The surprise crash from what seemed like a fallen meteorite did just that, caught the troop off guard.  How a precognate would have helped in avoiding the devastating blow!  Not that anyone in the troop was dead, for having caught a glimpse of what the ball was and the contents it held, the leader, who had been called Runean, could tell that sphere was a indistinguishable light but she could not determine the faces of the man and woman within.  Immediately she called out the order of reformation regardless of how shocked her men were.

Those that couldn't get up upon call were aided by others and were mounted as fast as their feet would allow.  Runean's mind sprouted upon the revelation that what/whoever it was that crashed into them was obviously running from something.  Was it possible that these could be the prey they were looking for?  Without a doubt in her mind, this magic was otherworldly and therefore, according to her, so were the man and woman.  She'd much rather cut throats first then ask questions later.  "Hurry, you pie-eyed maggots!" she cried out to the men.  "After that ball!"  She hiked her heels into her mare's sides and dashed to the front of the Vanguards.

[Anonymous]

The hunters? Follow a spell that allowed two to move THAT fast? On HORSES? Yeah... That was going to happen sometime soon. Not a snowball's chance in hell was more like it. Draconi Forest was huge and it was dense, so no matter what screwed up little thoughts they had about following them, they were shit out of luck. The She-elf knew this all too well, and though she knew they were trying, she knew they would fail. It was not a matter of if, it was simply a matter of them realizing this sooner, or later.

Within two bounds, the brightsphere had left the army of hunters in the dust... they weren't even visible any longer, and the pair still had a long, long way to go. The hunters would be taking a good week to catch up to their pace, and that was PROVIDED they still were going to be able to see the blue sphere... and they would not.

Grinning, Aysel squeezed her vampire friend's hand gently and murmured to him, the wind inside that bubble as if they were sitting still, even as they repeatedly struck ground and moved, the elven spell not so much as disturbing a twig as they landed... unless of course she wanted to, like before. "They are not going to catch up. No way." she murmured to him, and looked momentarily to the vampire as they bounded once more.