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AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED. DERP. <3 <3 WC: 602
Tonight, Kesho was tired. The recent frigid temperatures had kept his bones feeling less than comfortable, and so he often walked in Optime. This time, though, he'd felt even too tired to bother shifting, feeling that the energy loss from transforming might just force him to sleep for a few solid hours. And that wouldn't do; he needed that time. If he slept, and someone came in the night, would he wake up? Kesho always felt it better to be safe, and so he preferred to rest for short periods. As they said, the wicked rarely slept.
All that was to say, the old man didn't really want to be out here, tracing the borders looking for things that likely wouldn't come. But they might. And if they did, he would be there. Even now.
Every limb felt exhausted, achy, and simply old. Kesho hated feeling old. Grumpily, he slowed his speed to a more comfortably pace and let out a heavy sigh, his breath a misty cloud before crimson eyes.
What was that, in the distance? His eyes narrowed, once again picking up his pace, but only slightly. Some white figure, in the nearby distance, approaching Inferni borders. Their pace seemed leisurely, almost cautious; not the behavior of an enemy, unless their tactics had changed. It was with equal curiosity, and a heavy dose of fatigue that he approached what looked to be a female's figure. A opalescent phantom, glowing amidst a misty night. Something about her make his skin tingle and crawl, once-pleasant memories flashing across his mind's eye. The old man's brows furrowed, annoyed at this late-night disturbance. The Hydra hoped this would not be an long task to deal with.
As he grew closer, the cold breeze managed to carry a whiff of her scent. Immediately, he became more aware. She smelled vaguely of Anathema, but also something else. Something familiar, but something that he didn't know anything of. Accompanied by a distinct but low growl, the rust-colored man approached and stopped several yards away from the woman, staring out from the borders, his body wound betwixt hollow, decayed remains; memories of war, punishment, and justice. They were trophies.
Kesho's hackles remained raised, head lowered but ears alert. Even at this distance, she seemed to bare no sign of ill will. But that hasn't stopped you before, Kesho... hissed a voice at the back of his mind. Thoughts flashed to his scuffle with that russet and red brute, that cowardly wolf. But, no, it was his duty to protect these borders, and that was what he would do.
"Why are you here?" he shouted, gruff voice projecting a vigor and sense of strength that he currently lacked, punctuated by a snarl. His limbs ached; they begged not to be put to work. The Hydra, assuming the woman's lack of desire for confrontation, hoped that this simple display would be enough to get her on her way out of here. It wasn't usually that easy, though. But then again, why would this pretty, lone wolfess be here, alone, now, if she wanted to fight. Who would come alone? Suddenly, Kesho feared that Inferni lacked the respect it once had, and frowned at the thought.
"This is Inferni." he growled the simple words, red eyes peering out, trying to catch her own under the light of the moon. "You reek of Anathema." the Hydra added, yellowing teeth bared, nose upturned as if the smell truly offended him. But still, there was something else to it...