Interacting With: Everyone
Mentions:@Almalthia@MsMorningstar@Argetlam350@ZAVAZggg@Inertia
“I don’t understand though Angus, what’d they go an’ hurt that lady for?”
Skull caved in, pink visible, blood, sticky, pooling in hollows left by footsteps in the mud.
“She wasun’ a lady Col’,”
Shopping – parsnips and tomatoes and cabbages, a leg of red, fatty meat, strewn about the mass of silky blonde hair streaked with brown and sticky crimson.
“She were a wolf pretending to be a lady.”
A groan, a half-hearted attempt to lift from the floor.
“Is she the one what took Susie and Marie-Ann from the village?”
Fabric, bright and fluttering in the grey breeze.
“They think so.”
A glint of steel.
“How do they know?”
“They just do.”
“
There are monsters in this batch,”
The commander’s words rang in Colin’s ears. Monsters. Here. He should’ve known, been more diligent, more alert – he scanned the room. A woman, the soft bulge of fangs above her lip – except no. Not pale enough. She was human. What was the commander –
The man. With the hood. Of course.
His heart thudded. His blood - ice. Pale skin, just visible through ghostly strands of white hair hanging limp from the man’s hood. The hard to pin-down, but clearly unnatural way he held his mouth – a mouth meant for teeth, not
fangs.
Colin’s hands twitched, aching to reach, either for the weapon strapped to his back or the ones hanging from his belt. Legs, similarly, ready to carry him far away at a moment’s notice. The Commander’s armour clinked softly with each step as she moved through the crowd. The bloodsucker was shackled – iron digging into translucent skin, and they were surrounded by the most efficient monster fighting force in the land. He hadn’t been slain where he stood, and Colin wasn’t one to contradict the Red Hoods. They must have needed him for something, what, he didn’t know, but… well, he didn’t really have much choice, did he?
The rest of the keep was decidedly less opulent than the main hall, something which brought Colin a measure of comfort, despite the crawling feeling in his gut and the feeling like the walls were going to crush them all between them. The bare stone that reeked of history, the flickering candlelight that twisted their shadows… terrifying, but more familiar than anything he’d seen all day.
Their footsteps echoed as they followed the man with the scars and the scowl – Finley, apparently – to their rooms. He caught Eliza’s eye. She’d slipped away earlier without his notice, but she’d been talking to what appeared to be a friend of hers, so he’d settled for listening to the speech alone. He was glad they’d ended up with the same group though, she seemed like she’d be a useful ally, hopefully even a friend – plus, that butterfly thing she’d had was
awesome.
They came to a stop, and the odd looking group clustered awkwardly around the man as he detailed the particulars of their stay. Who were Celestina and Von Lillen? He supposed he’d found out soon enough.
“Lehta.” “Lehta.” “Lehta.” “Lehta.” “Lehta.” Crackling, swooshing, whistling. People were speaking – mouths moving. Hot face. Painful chest. Numb Hands.
The walls were wood.
They were going to die.
“
Are you trying to get yerself killed lad?”
The woman with the kind eyes was saying something, doing something, towards the woman with the red –
Blood welling up, sinking into the grass
-hair?
The woman with the kind eyes was smiling, scared, what was she saying?
It didn’t matter, harsh words had been exchanged and it was his turn to get wood for the fire.
Did that look mean something?
It was cold and it was dark, and his bare feet sank into the cold loamy Earth as he ran, towards the wood-store with his breath crystal and cloudy and loud.
The giant with white hair-
A hand on his arm.
”No need to scream child, I have no wish to hurt you”- was talking-
He didn’t.
-Then- Rubbing wrists. Smiling. Why was he so close to her? Why didn’t she-
Stinging.
“Fecking move Lad!” Jelly knees collapsing, on the ground, stinging turned to ripping.
- run?
Blood soaked into the Earth.
A man, human, was walking across the hall.
A stretching, elastic sound –not ringing or whistling, and oh, sound.
"Chain me up. It matters little to me if I am chained or not. My life, in particular, belong to the Red Hoods- again, chained or otherwise."His hands were shaking – his whole body was shaking.
The sensation of wood beneath fingertips, of a familiar stiff but far from unbearable pain in his bad arm, of Nessy – raised. Arrow strung – pointing at the creature. When had that happened? How was there even room?
His voice, not his voice, but coming from his mouth –
“Don’t fecking try anything, bloodsucker. One move, and this arrow’s in your chest.”