"Would someone tell me, what in the blazes is going on?" The voice that belonged to fellow House member Lucie, drew Johanna's attention towards the women whom they had followed to the mill. For once, a half-hearted smile split her face in two. Certainly, an odd situation to be smiling in, but she found herself wondering the same.
"As far as we know, we pursued the case of a rabid bear terrorizing the area. However, we had just collected our belongings and was in the midst of making our way back to the manor when we heard a gunshot coming from this general direction. We are just at a loss as you are yourselves. We never expected to find, well... this." Here she gestured to the unfolding scenario before her. To the naked, and obvious feminine form that belonged to the Master of the House, and to the strange and unfathomable situation unfolding between Lady Isabeau and the grotesque creature that carried her.
Truly, in all her life’s experience, Johanna Roheisia Valerivicus had witnessed some rather inexplicable events. But this… the scene of chaos unraveling before her, claimed first place in all of those areas. At the sudden sound of a gunshot, her mount reared up, and sent her toppling from the saddle, wherein she landed hard on her forearm. The immediate pain that spread like fire all the way up to her head blinded her. White-hot needles raced from the wrist, and traveled straight to her eyes where they pulsated. Incapacitated, Johanna lay in a slump of grey-green fabric, doubled over as she struggled to withhold a cry.
However, Wesley, who had witnessed Johanna fall, turned his attention to the arrival of a strange, and peculiar being. Perhaps the old Navajo would call this creature before him, a true skinwalker, for this being who seemed entirely composed of different human body parts captivated his attention wholly. Astonished he watched in fascination at the work of Lily, the woman who was familiar, yet not known to him, set the beast alight in flammable oil from her lantern, and then proceeded to set him ablaze. Everything occurred in flashes around him, he could have sworn that before all of this, he had seen Adam Ware with his own eyes standing, naked, albeit with a womanly figure, and a woman that he had never met either, speaking with the creature.
Instinctively, Wesley turned his attention back to the creature as it seemed that whatever the red-haired woman had set out to do, ought to be finished. Beside him, only feet away, he heard the raspy voice of Johanna, thick with pain. “Shoot it Mr. Craven!” She hissed, now managing to push herself into a seated position, her injured arm held tight against her dress. Both horses had fled, and as she had heard off in the distance, one of them had suffered a fate most unfortunate. He reacted immediately, and lifted again the Colt M1878’s from their holster’s at his side, and with great haste, checked the barrels of the pistols to ensure they had bullets lodged in the chamber, which he discovered there were three.
His unofficial training living in the New Mexico territory, and living on the outskirts of Santa Fe, had given him plenty of skill and expertise with quick-draws, and loading these types of pistols with ease. Even when he had set off towards South Dakota, his natural skill in firearms had come with ease, and at a time like this, it did not fail him then. Slowing his breathing, he made damn sure to keep both eyes open as he lifted the pistols up. Both thumbs cocked the carbines, while his forefingers moved to the trigger. His eyes settled on the wailing figure of the hideous beast before him. There, he aimed for the head with both pistols trained dead center, and pulled the trigger.
"As far as we know, we pursued the case of a rabid bear terrorizing the area. However, we had just collected our belongings and was in the midst of making our way back to the manor when we heard a gunshot coming from this general direction. We are just at a loss as you are yourselves. We never expected to find, well... this." Here she gestured to the unfolding scenario before her. To the naked, and obvious feminine form that belonged to the Master of the House, and to the strange and unfathomable situation unfolding between Lady Isabeau and the grotesque creature that carried her.
Truly, in all her life’s experience, Johanna Roheisia Valerivicus had witnessed some rather inexplicable events. But this… the scene of chaos unraveling before her, claimed first place in all of those areas. At the sudden sound of a gunshot, her mount reared up, and sent her toppling from the saddle, wherein she landed hard on her forearm. The immediate pain that spread like fire all the way up to her head blinded her. White-hot needles raced from the wrist, and traveled straight to her eyes where they pulsated. Incapacitated, Johanna lay in a slump of grey-green fabric, doubled over as she struggled to withhold a cry.
However, Wesley, who had witnessed Johanna fall, turned his attention to the arrival of a strange, and peculiar being. Perhaps the old Navajo would call this creature before him, a true skinwalker, for this being who seemed entirely composed of different human body parts captivated his attention wholly. Astonished he watched in fascination at the work of Lily, the woman who was familiar, yet not known to him, set the beast alight in flammable oil from her lantern, and then proceeded to set him ablaze. Everything occurred in flashes around him, he could have sworn that before all of this, he had seen Adam Ware with his own eyes standing, naked, albeit with a womanly figure, and a woman that he had never met either, speaking with the creature.
Instinctively, Wesley turned his attention back to the creature as it seemed that whatever the red-haired woman had set out to do, ought to be finished. Beside him, only feet away, he heard the raspy voice of Johanna, thick with pain. “Shoot it Mr. Craven!” She hissed, now managing to push herself into a seated position, her injured arm held tight against her dress. Both horses had fled, and as she had heard off in the distance, one of them had suffered a fate most unfortunate. He reacted immediately, and lifted again the Colt M1878’s from their holster’s at his side, and with great haste, checked the barrels of the pistols to ensure they had bullets lodged in the chamber, which he discovered there were three.
His unofficial training living in the New Mexico territory, and living on the outskirts of Santa Fe, had given him plenty of skill and expertise with quick-draws, and loading these types of pistols with ease. Even when he had set off towards South Dakota, his natural skill in firearms had come with ease, and at a time like this, it did not fail him then. Slowing his breathing, he made damn sure to keep both eyes open as he lifted the pistols up. Both thumbs cocked the carbines, while his forefingers moved to the trigger. His eyes settled on the wailing figure of the hideous beast before him. There, he aimed for the head with both pistols trained dead center, and pulled the trigger.