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Buried In The Woods [Finn]

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#1Amaris 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Thu Sep 12, 2019 12:13 pm

Amaris


Buried In The Woods [Finn] HkN4H1a


Amaris saw into the distance; a thousand dots of white and yellow light sparkled against a backdrop of pure darkness. It was rather cold tonight and rain trickled down the glass windows of their stone homes. She couldn’t help but wonder–did humans really not care for the night sky, with its moon and stars? What made them hide in their homes come nightfall anyways?

It’s because they cannot see in the dark, she quietly whispered to herself and deep laughter erupted from within her chest.

Truthfully, she did look a lot like them. Amaris was flesh, bone and blood; the combination of mortal ingredients captured inside a female body made her look just that: mortal. But Amaris was nothing like them–not even if she wanted to be. Amaris was a lycanthrope, carrier of an ancient bloodline. She was pure and yet she walked the grounds of earth among humans and not her own kind for reasons she would rather not remember.

Weary, gold speckled eyes gazed up the massive building which sat atop the mountain. Amaris understood that the world–to some extent–needed law and order. But what they wanted was something else entirely: to not co-exist, at the very least not with her kind. There were so few of them now, that she hadn’t met a single lycan in years. Amaris Ashryver was very much a lonewolf, but even she couldn’t withstand her primal cravings, such as the need for a pack and for companionship.

That was perhaps the reason for why she had come to Era in first place–not to seek trouble with knights and their silly magic, but to adapt and keep a low profile and maybe, just maybe find someone who did the same.

Someone like her.

As if the gods (not that she believed in any) had overheard her thoughts and dared to test her, Amaris picked up on the conversation between four knights who exited from a nearby bar. The establishment of a huntsman from what she knew, and a place she frequently visited herself due to the outrageous selection of delicious and fresh meat.  

“She’s the girl from the herbal shop,” one male spoke, the tone of his voice suggesting that he was excited and the scent surrounding him revealing that alcohol had added to that. “He’s meeting her at midnight–,” “Right here?! In town?” “No, outside of course you idiot. At the forest’s clearing, he said she thinks he wants to propose.” They laughed and it sent shivers down her spine. “What a stupid girl. If she really thinks that, then I guess she's going to get no less than what she deserves."

Amaris watched in silence as they walked towards the city’s gates, the silver shine of their weapons sparkling under the moonlight. Against all odds, a lump had formed in the woman’s throat and she felt something unspeakably annoying digging and clawing at her from the inside out: it was her conscience.

No, she objected, pulling the dark hood of her black cloak deeper into her face. It’s not my problem. Amaris sunk against the nearby wall and crouched down. Time went by, but she refused to move.

But it could have been. Maybe it will be someday.
Humans deserve each other. If this is what they choose to do to their own kind, they truly deserve each other.
No one deserves this.
I’m no one’s savior. I’m not responsible for anyone’s safety.
Perhaps if you chose to be, you wouldn’t be alone anymore.


And with that, something inside the woman snapped loose; she leaped forwards, sucked in a sharp breath–to pick up the scent, so to speak–and hunted them down. Werewolves were like bloodhounds, chasing prey was an art they perfected eons ago and it did not take her long to catch up to them. They outnumbered her and at least two of them were armed, but Amaris didn’t so much as assess the situation beyond necessity.

The girl (she really must have been a stupid one for coming here) was already weeping and her were clothes torn when she arrived, and thus the werewolf did not waste any more time and pounced from the darkness right on top of the largest of them all. Bones shattered, blood spattered and she dug her claws deep into his back before reaching for the sword at his side. Amaris was by no means a swordswoman, but she didn’t want to risk transforming and accidently ripping the girl as well and so she had to make due with what she had.

“Go!” Amaris growled; she had thrown the sword straight at her now ex-fiancé. Whether or not he–or any of them–would succumb to their wounds didn’t matter as long as it was enough to buy them time. The maiden rose to her feet, mumbled something about eternal gratitude and free herbs for a lifetime and, much to Amaris’s surprise, fled the scene with remarkable speediness.

Amaris claws were at the throat of the third when she felt a stinging pain tear through her left shoulder. She cursed at the unfamiliar sensation and stumbled as the Rune Knight pulled back his lance–the barbs connected to its blade forcing her to fall backwards as well.

Amaris gasped, warm blood dripped down her skin and the world became quiet–but only for a mere moment. Neither of them dared to move when the lycanthrope turned her head around and glared over her shoulder. She was breathing heavily and the look in her eyes had become utterly unworldly.

”Now you’ve done it.”



Buried In The Woods [Finn] XRoCq8x
#2Finn Mertens 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Fri Sep 13, 2019 9:12 pm

Finn Mertens


They look so small.

His face was turned upwards, eyes drinking in the sight of the endless expanse before him. It seemed to stretch on infinitely, a darkness that filled every gap and closed every distance. Only the stars, spread apart and distant as they might be, put up a resistance against the liquid properties of that onyx filled sky. He remembered the stories his adoptive family told him, of how each of those minuscule specks were another sun. Some, they told him, even held other earths. It was a ridiculous claim; At least, it would be to anyone who had not walked with demons and spoke with angels. Even the world he knew spread to places he could not see nor hope to visit, so why would he doubt the words of his father when speaking of places he himself could not travel?

Finn shifted his weight, previously cool granite against his back beginning to adjust to his own body heat. The proof of rain lay in the streets, gathered together in shallow pools, the residual heat from the earth causing swaths of steam to begin to rise. His eyes, as adjusted as they could be to the lunar light, would sometimes flicker back down to the fog that rose no higher than his knees. The night felt eerie, as if something were out of place and yet no one had noticed quite yet.

His mind was white noise, with no clear direction in his thought, nor focus. It seemed like it was both abuzz with activity, and yet completely docile. In that state, he felt as if he could truly relax. There was a sense of peace in the chaos, and a content sigh escaped through the smallest parting of his lips. For once, he was no longer focused on what had changed. He was no longer focused on what he now had, or what he had lost.

Nor was it a feeling unique in tonight. For a short while now, he had grown to accept it. The storm within him had calmed, and he felt more confident in himself now than he had in months; Perhaps ever. He was so lost in the absence of anything that the world around him had melted away into abstract. Colors blended, surfaces slipped away, and his usually sharp senses were not even aware of when one thing stopped or another began. The noise of people passing had melded in with the static. Where once he would have snapped his head in their direction, now he didn't even acknowledge there presence.

How long had he stayed like that? How long had he looked dauntlessly into the void, finding himself at peace there? He didn't know. He couldn't tell, and he didn't try. All he knew was he was snapped out of it rather abruptly. The powerful sound of something crashing into stone permeated the night like a pungent reminder of the world at large. The sound was fast, rhythmic, and caught ones attention for the force that was needed to generate it. Finn knew the sound, but his muddled mind was slow to realize.

That was, of course, until a blur passed by him. He stared after in a daze, still unsure of what was now happening. He had been so out of touch that he was still struggling to make sense of what was happening before him. Even his senses, as heightened as they could be for a human with his level of training, were completely lost at that moment of confusion.

As he slowly gained his bearings once more, he stood tall. Then, as if his body had never stopped its motion, he began to lean forward. Within an instant he was building speed in the direction of which the blur had traveled. He had hesitated ten, maybe fifteen seconds. He still wasn't moving at top speed, as he had no way of knowing which streets it had gone. All he knew was the nagging in the back of his head that something was amiss.

His head snapped to a woman running towards the town, the edge of which Finn now stood near, with torn clothes and puffy eyes. She was saying something, but from the distance he could hardly make it out. All he knew was she said something about the direction she came from, and that there was danger. Truth be told, it was all he needed.

He rocketed into motion once more, this time able to reach his full speed if only for a moment, before he entered a clearing. What he saw before him seemed like it were a scene on pause, illuminated by what little moonlight there was. The adventurer looked around the area, lapping up the images before him. Two men on the ground, condition unknown.

She was running for help.

A third, alive but recently put into critical condition.

What was she saying?

Two more, speechless and afraid of what lay before them.

That there was danger?

And a woman, pierced and bloodied, but also speckled with blood that wasn't her own, and stationary in the middle of what had almost been five corpses.

Is she..?

"I found you." He stepped forward, his dominant hand having found its way to the hilt of his blade sometime during his processing of information. His eyes scanned what was before him once more, this time taking an immediate understanding of the state they all were in. His eyes turned then to the woman who, in his perspective, was the cause of all this.

"Nobody move." His voice was death. What leaked from him was something primal. Even humanity, who took pride in claiming to have distanced themselves from their instincts, would have felt it. Standing before them was a warrior who was letting out a true killing intent, one that had been trained through years and honed to a fine point. The men of the Rune Knights would not speak. They would not find their voice. Yet all of them, and perhaps even the woman who stood before him, would see the same image from the darkness.

Buried In The Woods [Finn] 99D2CF3C6A07290EC8AE1DB8F4B37A98153E6443

"I suggest you explain to me what is going on."



Buried In The Woods [Finn] F3259A9AB18642E6B840E231B17A26AC9BAF5FE9
#3Amaris 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Sat Sep 14, 2019 4:55 pm

Amaris


Buried In The Woods [Finn] HkN4H1a


It’d slept.

And like most sleep it ended as abruptly as it had begun. It was the sour stench of blood and death that nearly made the werewolf drunk with hunger. The sensation enveloped her, choked her so subtly that she hadn’t even realized she’d been suffocating. Behind her, the knight’s triumphant grin had faltered. Amaris did not breathe, did not dare, unless the wrath that had so violently wound up in her prematurely unraveled and undid both her sangfroid and the humans.

Breathe.

Not a plea, but a command.

Amaris’ muscles were burning; mind-numbing pain shot through her limbs and in the cold night her breath had become cloudy white mist. She felt feverish and droplets of sweat were rolling down her temples. It’s fading, she thought and her head was throbbing–the images of the knights were blurry now, as if the relevance of their presence was no longer and the reason for why she’d come here already forgotten.

It’s fading.

If Amaris lost control, if she changed, then there could only be death–she never left witnesses alive.

Self-control; her family had died for it, she herself had killed for it, had let herself be enslaved for it. The control Amaris had given everything for was fading away. The Change, as the transformation was often referred to, wasn’t sacred or holy. If anything, it was ancient and the power that came with it was god-given. Amaris always considered herself worthy of such strength and she was as prideful as the rest of her breed. But humankind was cruel and their cruelty had taken a toll on her. So she worked on her resilience, her willpower and her determination.

Because Amaris Ashryver was a survivor.

And she would live.

The gods had forsaken her, there was no homeland for her to return to, no place where she would find herself safeguarded and her existence accepted–there was no justice in this world, not for a lycanthrope. But this wouldn’t stop her from clinging to life and her own freedom. Amaris believed that she deserved to exist, not just barely but completely and fully as the being she was born as. And she wouldn’t allow anyone to punish her for that.

I found you.

And with that, the presence of another, their scent alien in every aspect of the word, cut into the scene. Amaris hadn’t felt it, hadn’t smelled it until now–battling the urge to transform had put her into a state lethargy that she now snapped out of. Before her, the fuzzy images of five, six men solidified and she was back on her ass, with the bloody lance still poking a hole through her shoulder.

Wordlessly Amaris reached back and grabbed the weapon; with a hitch she yanked it out of the man’s grip and slid a few feet away. She was still in a crouched position, now hunched over, and in order to give herself a better view of the current situation Amaris positioned herself with her back towards the corpses before breaking off the long end of the wooden lance.

Amaris didn’t find the time to act surprised at the lack of reaction from the Rune Knight, because when the newly arrived person spoke again her bloodlust shattered.

He demanded for answers and naturally, neither of them responded.

Their truth was too shameful and a decent lie would take a while to fabricate. As for her, Amaris didn’t think – not for once – that he would grant her the same justice as his own kind and therefore she wasn’t even going to bother. Because he was human, just like the rest of them, and although what leaked from his aura had proven to be something else entirely, she could finally smell it on him – a beating heart.

For some reason she felt relieved.

Disobeying his command, Amaris began pulling on the remains of the wood; she twisted it around slowly until it popped out of her flesh and fell into the grass. She groaned and pressed a hand to her wound. Still, the Rune Knights refused to move. And she refused to look at the stranger, the one whose mere presence had thrown her off her will to change–had subdued her werewolf transformation. Amaris wasn’t a complete idiot and she wouldn’t allow for this to happen again, not if she had to fight herself through every single one of them–the swordsman included.

“I attacked them,” she finally spoke, her eyes darting between his legs and the other three men, “And much to my chagrin, they fought back.”



Buried In The Woods [Finn] XRoCq8x
#4Finn Mertens 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Tue Sep 17, 2019 12:35 pm

Finn Mertens
The area had frozen, as though time itself had crept to a halt with his arrival. He was aware of the way he was carrying himself, his voice, the impact that his appearance would have on those in the clearing. He was not, however, expecting anyone to respond.

Normally, when one was confronted with a predator, instincts kicked in that made them react a certain way; Fight or flight response. In Finn's experience, more often than not there was also a third option for situations such as this.

Freeze.

The preys mind had overloaded, fear conflicting with rationale and causing them to slide to a halt. Part of their mind told them to fight, or in this case had already been fighting. Then, something else came to change that. To flee was repeated in their mind again and again, cementing itself as the only option for survival. The individual felt both forces tugging on their mind, a tightness in their chest from the inability to make their decision, and they found themselves unable to move.

It was normally when one resigned themselves to their fate that they froze in such a way. Yet it had not been Finn's arrival, nor his apparently obvious intent to slaughter all those in the clearing, that had made them freeze. It was his question. He was not the same trigger happy hero he once was. He had calmed. Experiences that forced him again and again to confront his moral compass and his views of life had changed him into a man.

The woman spoke, breaking the hold of everyone's attention. It was an outside element, one of familiarity and one that had caused their initial guttural reaction. A voice began to stammer, choking through the silence that had almost swallowed him whole.

"Y-Y-Yeah! It was that crazy bitch over-"

Silence once more as Finn's sword slid from its spot onto the back. The way it caught the moonlight made it radiate with a pale light, becoming of death. His eyes found those of the man who was speaking, and the mans words once again fell into the pit of his stomach. Tears welled up in his eyes as he glanced back at the woman behind him too. Realistically, in this sad mans head, he understood that on either side of him were a beast that could end his life in a moment. His only chance out of this would be that they turned on each other rather than him and his comrades.

"Let me rephrase the question." His voice was cold and callous, befitting the aura that he had brought into the clearing. His eyes searched out her golden hues. The way she held herself in such a position was one that he had become accustomed to during his travels, and the quests that he had taken up in other questions. Even wounded, her chin was tilted slightly up, her eyes then giving the appearance of looking down on whoever met them. This person, whoever she was, fancied herself as nobility; Or at the very least, the same sense of superiority.

"Are you the one who violated that woman who ran to me for help?" His peripheral gaze caught how the men near him stiffened, straightening their backs and lowering themselves ever so slightly. As sure a sign of guilt as it was, it would be hasty for him to make that conclusion based off that alone. For all he knew, they slunk at the horror of what they remembered, and at the sight of whatever this woman did to that girl. He only wanted to the truth, and he'd determine whether or not he was being lied to by the way they answered.

And how he hated to be lied to.



Buried In The Woods [Finn] F3259A9AB18642E6B840E231B17A26AC9BAF5FE9
#5Amaris 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Wed Sep 18, 2019 1:52 pm

Amaris


Buried In The Woods [Finn] HkN4H1a


“I’m not crazy.” Amaris was speaking quietly; she had finally risen to her feet and carefully pulled the cloak across the wounded side of her body–oh dear, what a nuisance it had become. She would have to cauterize the wound soon. The Werewolf could withstand a decent amount of physical pain (she may not have looked sturdy, but she certainly was) but burning flesh brought her to a limit.

Somewhere between the Rune Knight’s words, and then his, Amaris’ tension had dissolved into nothingness. Suddenly, the woman’s golden eyes seemed tired and weary beyond her years. As if she had just remembered that she had been in a situation similar to this so many times before and each time was filled with regrets. A stupid mistake she kept making, even though she should know better by now.

It made her laugh–not with spite, for she did not have the sense for that right now, only defeat. She started moving slowly and eventually walked past the knight who had accused her without hesitation. “I’m not crazy,” she repeated in a whisper while facing him, “because I do not hurt others mindlessly.” She looked him over and was dumbfounded by how average he seemed.

It was humanity’s greatest gimmick; how they carried themselves and managed to look nothing like the monsters they were.

“But neither do you. You understand exactly what it is you are doing to others and here you are, doing it nonetheless. And that scares me,” she scoffed at him–somehow, Amaris couldn’t even believe she was having this conversation right now. “Not even animals do that. And that’s what makes you the worst.” She’d tried for so many years to get along with them, to live amongst them and understand just why they were the way they were. She forgave them for killing her entire family for it had been payback, and most certainly well deserved. The loss hurt, but it wasn’t an act of injustice and Amaris could accept that.

What she couldn’t understand, let alone accept, was their pointless grind for self-destruction. This, however, was all she had to say to him now that he no longer represented a threat. “I really don’t get it,” she was turning her back on him now, moving on as she spoke, “how the same person who harbors such evil intent is reduced to tears so easily, when nothing has even happened to you yet.”

Amaris wasn’t worried about a potential backstab–she knew he didn’t dare to move, not with the snow-haired warrior still present. Of course he wouldn’t protect her, but apparently his sheer existence was enough to shaken the weak-minded and put them into their place.

How interesting.

She had been curious about him since the moment he stepped into the clearing, but it was only now that Amaris could give the time and attention it took to inspect him properly, to see who he really was–and what he wanted from her.

She had ignored all his previous demands for answers, not out of disrespect but simply due to lack of necessity. Amaris believed that he had already put the pieces together upon arrival and perhaps he wanted to give his own kind a shot at redeeming themselves. To feel remorse and express regret. But of course he received none of that and it was without a doubt the reason for his bad mood.

There were still so many things off about him, so many warning signs. When Amaris approached him, she ignored all of them. She stood before him now, and as much as she stiffened and stretched and ignored the biting pain in her shoulder, he still towered over her. It’s a good thing pride came naturally to Amaris and she didn’t let this throw her off, not one bit.

She came to say what she had to say, and so she would.

“I don’t know what kind of role you think you play in any of this, but I suppose the rest of them do owe you a life debt.” Amaris didn’t know whether or not this meant as much to them as it did to her, but with pride came honor and she would never disrespect the value of such a debt. But it was up to them to figure out. “I want to correct you on something, however,” she said and her voice remained calm and collected. “That girl did not run to you for help. When you saw her, I had already saved her.”

Amaris’ aggression had vanished because he had confirmed the girl to be safe. There was no need for further violence.

She looked up to him once more, eyes meeting if he allowed, and frowned. When he’d spoken, she could not sense or hear any concern in his voice, just pure anger and hatred. Almost as if he didn’t care that a woman had come to harm, as if it could have been literally any other situation – what mattered to him was the fact that someone had dared to move out of line, to do something they were not supposed to.

Vigilantism was a dangerous trigger in the hands of sociopaths, especially those who wielded such kingly swords. Amaris could only hope he wasn’t one of those. In hindsight, his true intentions remained absolutely unclear to her.

“Now, if you’d allow–I have to treat my wounds.”


She stepped away and gazed over her shoulder one last time, giving a silent warning to the two other men not to startle her for she could still explode into fury any given moment. Amaris took a few steps away from the young man and quickly hushed towards the treeline. She hoped to be out of sight very soon, as it was still dark and humans had terrible eyes. Once she thought herself out of their view, she leaned into a tree and her breathing became heavy. Now that she could no longer ignore the pain, it became overwhelming.

But Amaris Ashryver would be damned if she died from something as underwhelming as blood loss.



Buried In The Woods [Finn] XRoCq8x
#6Finn Mertens 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Thu Sep 26, 2019 9:42 am

Finn Mertens
She spoke, and as she spoke he listened. Her words were genuine, or at least rehearsed enough to play the part. She seemed confused, angry, and perhaps even scared. Yet, as his eyes surveyed the carnage that lay before him of before he arrived, a question reared itself in the back of his mind. Why would she be so overwhelmed by this situation that she seemingly caused? Yet, even as he wondered that, he knew the answer.

He himself was a man who stood above many others, at least as far as power and ability went. He had turned many battlefields into something quite similar to the bodies that lay upon the earth now, slowly growing colder. There was a flash, for the briefest of moments, of times past. Of how the younger version of himself would have handled this situation, with a sense of self assured naivety that would have blundered its way to some sort of conclusion. It was as though he could see it, more real than the foliage and people before him, playing out within his mind.

Then, as quickly as it had began, it was gone.

Her tone, which had quickly deteriorated to something more of malice and contempt, began to remind him of the sort of situation they were in. Yet, as she went to speak of the wounds she had garnered from this encounter, Finn spoke. His voice was cold, practically detached from the situation that they were in. Though his eyes still remained on the deceased before him, his words were directed towards the group of men that remained.

"Do you ever plan on seeing that girl again?" His eyes had shifted right before he had finished speaking, to the face of the man who had done most of the speaking. As he watched this man make sense of Finn's question, the slightest betrayal of his inner monologue shone through. A twitch of his upper lip, a slight turn of his head, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly; This man was not shaken up by whatever had occurred here, nor was he one to regret the actions he had taken. No, the reaction that came through for but a split second was one of irritation and anger. Yet, the gravity of the situation pressed upon the man once more and caused him to all but forget that moments reaction.

He opened his mouth to speak, but instead what came out was a gurgle. There Finn stood, his blade holding not even a droplet of the crimson that had just been spilled, as the men who remained fell.

Finn's eyes fell upon their corpses, but held no sort of reaction to what had just occurred. There was not pride in taking down these monsters, nor anger at what they had tried to do. If anything, there was a sense of pity welling within his gaze. Not for them, however.

"You didn't save her."

His words were cold, and his gaze didn't redirect to the woman to see if she had stopped or was still walking. It didn't matter, as his voice would be loud enough for her to hear even if she chose to leave the clearing all together.

"And the fact that you believe you did shows either inexperience or a refusal to understand." The irony was palpable, perhaps. For him of all people to try and explain an inability to understand the world of Humanity. Yet there was something to be said about one who had stumbled into the unknown world with an untainted gaze, and who had now traveled it so extensively and experienced so much. Perhaps, at last, he was a man who understood the weight of his experiences.

"Rune Knights don't just make a mistake in the heat of the moment. They don't just find a girl and suddenly evil takes over their hearts. They came out here with the intent of attacking that girl, or perhaps any girl they found. You stopped a few of them, sure, but here you were about to just leave them. Do you truly think they just learned their lesson, and now that girl and all others in this town were safe from the ones who were willing to act like that in the first place? You postponed her suffering. Nothing more."

Perhaps his words were directed to himself. The younger Finn who he had seen just moments ago, a warning to him. A warning that had come far too late. Placing his sword back to its home, and if the woman had stopped, Finn redirected his gaze to where she stood. "Do you need help treating your wounds?"



Buried In The Woods [Finn] F3259A9AB18642E6B840E231B17A26AC9BAF5FE9
#7Amaris 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Sat Sep 28, 2019 1:20 pm

Amaris


Buried In The Woods [Finn] HkN4H1a


Thunder rolled across the darkened skies above Era Town. Amaris stiffened as lightning tore the clouds asunder and faintly trickling rain drops grew into a steady drizzle. The rumbling of nature did nothing to block out the sound of his blade and much unlike herself, Amaris gasped for breath–not out of pain or exhaustion, but rather distaste. The rotten stench of human blood filled the air once more and with a twitch of her neck the Werewolf turned herself away from the scene, only to halt when spoken to.

His words could have been a punch to the face and they certainly felt like one. Amaris gawked at the massacre he now had contributed to and with every little bit of sense left inside her mind she searched for the reason to his actions only to learn that there was nothing to be found and even less to be sought for. No explanation for why and how he’d done something she struggled so much to do so easily and effortlessly.

Maybe she was simply wrong.

Mercy wasn’t what they deserved, it wasn’t what they needed either–perhaps he knew all of that and that’s why he’d done it, that's how he'd made the right decision.

Or maybe he was just as out of his mind as the rest of them had been.

“You’re right,” she finally admitted and along her words, a reluctant sigh escaped her lips. “I wish it was different, I thought your kind could be changed with fear alone but I should have known better.” Amaris shook her head and for a moment there it seemed as though she wanted laugh. “You humans are the most fearless beings in this world, and every other.”

With her golden, jewel-like eyes Amaris looked at the male for a long time. He appeared to be so young, and yet everything else about his aura betrayed that idea. He lacked spirit, the refreshing scent of adventurous human youth she’d grown so accustomed to during her travels. Worn out, tired and lifeless. Even the slaves of Desierto’s salt mines had shown more spark than he did right now.  

I wonder what happened to this one.


When he offered her help, Amaris’ shoulders slacked with relief. “Yes please.” She sought shelter beneath the crown of a large and heavy tree before pulling off her cloak to take a look at the wound. She didn’t mind the ruined shirt, although it had been made from costly material. The Werewolf’s attire was rather simple; black pants and boots along with a white top that was now blood drenched and torn, but still inconspicuous, ordinary and easy to move in. She pulled the arm connected to her wounded shoulder out of its sleeve and gave the entire situation a closer look.

For a woman, Amaris was fairly muscular, with a lean and strong body. She didn’t feel the pain as much as others might have, but of course she knew that it wasn’t good for her. With a somewhat clueless expression crossing her face, she gazed up at the tall human and asked, “Do you know how to fix it?”

If it came down to it, she would have figured it out on her own eventually. But Amaris was curious. Curious because he had stayed and curious because he had offered help.

But mostly, she was curious because he had found her.



Buried In The Woods [Finn] XRoCq8x
#8Finn Mertens 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Mon Sep 30, 2019 6:35 pm

Finn Mertens
Her words had come out reluctantly, something she didn't want to admit or address now. She had agreed with him, said he was right, but not even he was so certain. He was not a philosopher; Not a man of deep thoughts or extravagant wordings. He was never going to make a whole world rethink their lives, nor would he try. Yet still, even he could learn. He adapted to the reality before him, and as it chipped away at who he wanted to be, something akin to understanding had seeped in.

Truth? It was so arbitrary. It was often determined by the strong, and even the Gods themselves had waged war to etch their words into law. The only truths were the factual statements of what was. For something like this though, whether or not he was right in taking those lives, he didn't bother wondering. All he knew was that he had decided to do so. He thought, based on his past experiences, of the damages these men with their destroyed egos could cause. He thought about who they could still hurt, and who they may have hurt already. If they were innocent of those future crimes, then so be it.

Yet they were not powerful enough to defend that truth, and so they were wrong.

All that time he spent trying to walk away from the idea of predator and prey, and yet everything still seemed so binary. Whenever anything was broken into such polarized views, it all seemed to be the same.

And so he didn't bother wasting time on if he was right or wrong, but instead began to move with her to join beneath the haloed tree. It was a reprieve from the rain, although not completely. Water still trickled through the leaves, falling in fat droplets on his head and clothes. She had gone to move her arm from her clothing, and he had already dove into the pouch attached to his leg for supplies.

A man without magic, with only his sword in hand, needed to be able to repair his own wounds. He was not at all an expert, but he was proficient enough. He looked at her build, but his eyes didn't linger. The time where he would shy away and hide from such sights was long past. With gauze, a bottle with no label, and some bandage, he stepped to her side and analyzed the hole from front and back.

"Not fix it. I don't have a needle or thread. You keep referring to Humans as if you were separate. Does your race have any sort of healing capabilities?" As he asked that, he had begun to bundle up the gauze in to separate balls, lightly dousing them in the liquid that she'd smell as alcohol. "If not, you'll want to go to a doctor to get your shoulder patched up properly and to prevent infection. Otherwise, this will work until your body takes care of the rest."

Putting his free hand on top of her shoulder gently, without hesitation or hint of awkwardness, he locked eyes with her.

"I'm not going to lie, this is going to hurt. But I'm going to need you to hold the gauze on the front of your shoulder in place while I position at the back of the wound and apply the bandages." Once he received any sort of acknowledgement to say she understood and that it was fine, he pressed the wet material to her shoulder. It would hurt, without a doubt, no matter how tough she was. But she'd have to hold it, and she'd have to stay strong.

Then, he positioned the other piece, and began quickly wrapping. Luckily, the bandage had light adhesive on the inside to help him position it, and before long her shoulder was properly wrapped to eventually stop the bleeding, and hopefully prevent some of the infection. He looked at her with a side eye, as if making sure she didn't begrudge him for the primitive fix. "How's it feel now?"



Buried In The Woods [Finn] F3259A9AB18642E6B840E231B17A26AC9BAF5FE9
#9Amaris 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Tue Oct 01, 2019 3:10 pm

Amaris


Buried In The Woods [Finn] HkN4H1a


Mist now littered the forest paths and rose into a fog that swallowed their silhouettes whole.

In the shelter beneath the great tree, somewhere in the woods surrounding Era Town, Amaris sniffed the wet air and a look of disapproval crossed her face. The Werewolf had gotten used to the less obvious signs of battle, such as the lingering scent of blood that, much to her regret, would soon mix with disinfecting alcohol. The Human (this is what she would refer to him as from now on) was surprisingly well prepared for this unfortunate situation they now both found themselves in – and when he didn’t look, she dared to arch a brow.   

Though strong in build, Amaris’ spirit left much to be desired at the sight of the gauze and she turned her face away from it. "You are as seperate from them as I am,” she responded to his words. “But no – if I did you wouldn’t have to bother poking me with that devil’s liquid,” Amaris snarled unironically.

Amidst combat, she was in an adrenaline rush, she felt powerful–no, she was powerful and a little flesh wound couldn’t hinder her; right now, however, she was freezing, tired and in questionable company which gave her plenty reasons to side eye his work and wonder about which nursing college this one could have graduated from.

Much to her amusement, the human seemed to be paying attention to that as well.

When he recommended a doctor, Amaris merely shook her head. She didn’t need any more people questioning her breed after all. He grabbed her shoulder shortly after and the woman immediately tensed up. Looking for something to hold on to, she eventually dug her nails into her cloak and gave him a quick nod while applying pressure with her free hand, just as he had requested. The stinging pain that followed almost immediately was to be expected, but it threw her off anyways.

A pulse went through her body with more might than she could have foretold – like a heartbeat so intense and strong that she wondered if he could feel it too. A lycanthrope’s defensive mechanism and if she wasn’t under such perfect control, she would have transformed and eaten him alive without a doubt.

But Amaris was fine – dizzy, but fine.

Carefully, she peeked at the now bandaged wound. He’d been decent with her, and it looked surprisingly well taken care of. Perhaps if he’d done a shittier job, she wouldn’t have bothered with thanking him but Amaris was, naturally, a woman of honor. “It’s good. You have my gratitude.” Although the words were personal, she didn’t look at him and instead fiddled on what appeared to be a necklace. With a clack the woman had broken off a small, gold crested gemstone. It was turquoise in colour and while not of incalculable value, the little thing certainly looked pretty.

“Here,” she placed it into his palm, making sure he wouldn’t drop it once she let it go, “it’s not edible, but it’s a promise. If there’s ever a time like this again, I will be the one to share your burden instead.”

Perhaps it meant nothing to him; he might not even understand the gesture – but Amaris didn’t care, because she had her own values. Turning her back on the human, the woman stepped out of the tree’s line of protection and turned towards the clearing. They were all dead and even though she’d come here with the intention of murder in order to protect what she thought was more valuable than them, the Werewolf was perplexed that he had chosen to become a part of this.

All of this nonsense could have been her burden, her crime and her duty, but for some reason the human had chosen to become a part of something she had started and was unable to finish.

To Amaris, this made both of them a part of the same thing. And while she would never admit this, the feeling of not being alone in this mess put her at ease.

“Do we bury their bodies?”




Buried In The Woods [Finn] XRoCq8x
#10Finn Mertens 

Buried In The Woods [Finn] Empty on Sun Oct 13, 2019 8:39 am

Finn Mertens
A grin found its way to his lips, misplaced in all the rancor that had just taken place. Something about her calling the alcohol "devil's liquid" had been funny, enough to have almost evoked a chuckle. He could hardly imagine how someone would have reacted to that; Man laughing after slaughtering others and treating wounds. If she had not already begun doubting his sanity, that would have done the trick.

She seemed to be taking the words he said seriously, but there was no sort of fear in the air. Normally, one who had witnessed what she had might have some lingering distrust or discomfort at being around him. Perhaps it was the fact that he had treated her wounds, or maybe some sort of gut feeling she had, but she seemed to have at least a mild level of respect for him now. She listened to his words while analyzing his patchwork job on her shoulder. She'd likely need to stitch the wound herself later, but regardless it would scar.

As she thanked him, he nodded but didn't linger on it. There seemed to have been something else on her mind, something that she was almost distracted with at this point. Then, without much other discussion, she reached to a necklace that she had been wearing, grasping it in her hands. It looked like solid gold or gemstone, perhaps a bit of both? His eyes couldn't quite tell, due in part to the night around them and also due to her hands fidgeting with the tiny piece of decoration. His curiosity would soon be sated, though, as she proceeded to break off a piece of the jewelry and hand it to him.

As it passed ownership and she spoke to him, he let the piece of her rest in his palm. He stared down at it, almost blankly, and listened to what she said. It was at that moment where he realized that what he had done, for most, would have been a burden as she said. It would have been something to weigh on their conscious. It possibly would have stayed with them for a long time as they worked through whether or not they had done the right thing. What was he now, that he could end someones life in a moment and be beyond it in the next?

A monster..?

His thoughts disappeared into the mist, his hand slowly clamping over the memento she had given him. He looked up to her, a smile on his face, the first genuine emotion that had been so clearly displayed by him yet. "Thank you. I am Finn, by the way. Finn Mertens."

Whatever the reason behind her actions had been, he didn't need to know. There was no reason to ask her what it was suppose to mean, nor was there anything to gain in doing so. All he needed to know was that she had chosen to do something she didn't have to. It seemingly held at least a little bit of importance to her, and based on her words, was a genuine act of companionship. That was enough for him to fully appreciate it.

"No?" His eyes turned back to them.

"Yes? His gaze shifted back to her.

"They'll return to the earth regardless. At this point, it just changes what is allowed to get to them. What would you like to do?"



Buried In The Woods [Finn] F3259A9AB18642E6B840E231B17A26AC9BAF5FE9
#11Sponsored content 

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