![Buried In The Woods [Finn] HkN4H1a](https://i.imgur.com/hkN4H1a.png)
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.” |