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ooc: 382 words. Forward dated Dec. 2nd. Sugarwoods
Each whispered breath spoke of winter’s coming. The darkened skies herald the snowfall sure to blanket the land, yet all of nature remained still with bated breath. Shrill icy gust teased the delicate senses, bracing one for the sheer chill that would follow but never came. What were the skies waiting for, the woman often wondered as she peered into the blanketed sky. What transgressions need to happen before the land was blessed with endless white? She longed to see the first snow of winter. The wonder never dwindled from her time as a cub, and her anticipation only grew as she came of age. There was an indescribable calm that came with snow as well as a danger lying in wait. It was a time when nature itself became predator, consuming the weaker with frigid fangs while testing the strong to surpass their limits and prosper. It was a time of trial for all living beings from flora to fauna.
A shame she had pitted herself against nature, alone once again.
Return to Ichika was inevitable, but severely delayed. Even with the onset of winter nipping at autumn’s heels, she was in no rush to return and seek the warmth of her den. This was her prolonged punishment, she decreed to none but herself. This was what she deserved for betraying the trust of her friend. None had put it on her, in fact she was certain that in another light, an apology and perhaps some grieving would have sufficed, but it would not have done anything to ease the embarrassment she felt. She was better of wallowing til eventually her mind righted itself and she could muster the courage to confront the wronged mother and apologize sincerely.
For the time being, she found contentment wandering the familiar trails blazed by herself and the Shishen not long before. The familiar haunts gave her comfort and brought the smallest of smiles to her weary muzzle. And for an instant, she did not feel as guilty for her crime, for like her parting from the Nomads as well as Ichika, she had done what she felt was right and had remained true to herself… regardless of the consequence. With that in mind, she strode along with her companion upon her shoulder in silence.
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Amy was rather pleased with the weather. The lack of snow allowed her easy travel. It also kept the slave discouraged, trapped in the longing for her homeland. She smiled slightly to herself as she trundled through the grounds, thinking to herself. What she really needed right now was to practice. She'd spent the previous night mixing up various poisons and reciting the herb uses to herself, but it was her physical skills that needed true work. It had been a while since she'd wielded a blade, letting it bite into flesh.
She wasn't so fair she wouldn't attack without reason, of course. If needed Amy would wait for something to happen, giving her the excuse. Until then Amy drilled against a tree, practicing her throwing knives and alternating with the slashing moves of her sword. The pattern was smooth, creating a flashing dance in the light. The movement was soothing, resting Amy's mind. Each stroke killed another demon in her mind, even if they would return once her movement halted. Her skirt didn't get in the way, cut short to allow the most movement.
In only a few minutes Amy found herself huffing, falling into a complete rhythm. Interrupting her at this point would be dangerous, everything closed off to her except the sound of the spinning steel. Knives hit their target each time as she cut down a nearby branch. It was difficult doing both at the same time, but she needed to be able to fight against multiple enemies. She never knew when she'd be outnumbered, and honor wasn't exactly something she practiced herself.
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ooc: 308 words. .
Relaxed stride led her further than she cared to venture but would not stop for the sake of her own comfort. The aimless heart had no want to pause without reason, even if it slipped further into territories hardly remembered. The quiet beckoned welcomingly her continued approach, sparing not an ounce of serenity on her behalf. Not even the fodder dared stir, unknowing to the female that the cause for their silence was due to an assailant’s practice.
The stillness allowed her senses to stretch, to feel out what she could not see but clearly hear. The bend of grass by swift steps… the heavy breaths of exertion though lacking the carnal reverberations of intimacy. Only those that had not suffered the strain of training would have dismissed the sounds and went about their business… but not this warrior. Her interest was piqued now by these familiar breaths conjured not far from where she wandered. Curiosity detoured her from her path toward what she could not see, her breath held by anticipation. She felt the talons of her companion dig deeper into her shoulder finely piercing the flesh beneath as the animal grew agitated with each advancing step. X’yrin rounded her shoulder irritably, silently bidding her guide take flight before he tore through her shoulder. But he kept his talons latched onto her.
“…not a good idea,” came his softly spoken words, and in them surfaced a memory of a situation much like this not but a week before. Hadn’t she said something similar to the thrill seeking youth? Yet here she was being warned by her guide in the same fashion. She did not know what it was that compelled the young girl to venture deeper into danger’s midst, yet here was that Nomad following the same lead, ignoring the warnings of one much wiser than she.
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Movement flashed out of the corner of her eye. Not even waiting to find out what it was Amy threw a knife towards it. Her world of silent metal had almost been interrupted by this presence, her whirling movements slowing down. Amy continued without pause for a few moments more before the sight actually sunk into her mind. Something had moved nearby, too large for a bird or other ilk. Amy halted her dance of death, sniffing the air. It was a wolf, one she didn't know. Angry at the interruption Amy marched over to the tree she'd been using as a target, wrenching the throwing knives out.
She whirled towards the source, an aura of blood surrounding her. One could almost see her walking through bodies of those she had slain, not a single shred of mercy in her eyes. Levelly she met the wolf's eyes, noting the owl on her shoulder. There is a good reason for this interruption I expect. If there wasn't the stranger would be gutted right then and there. The owl was tamed somehow, and would be sold for a price. None of these thoughts struck her as particularly cold. They were just matter of fact, the way that her world worked. She was a princess, and expected to be treated with the respect accorded to such.
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The owl had attempted to fulfill his duty as both guide and guardian to his master, but he would have succeeded only if his words held sway over her selfish curiosity. Unfortunately, this was not the case as she tread deeper into dangers midst, unaware of what truly lurked beneath the fluid movements.
She had only a moment to react before metal was thrust in his direction. Even the keenest eyes would have endured a struggle to avoid such deadly aim, and the Nomad was no exception. By the grace of the fates she had avoided the deadly blow, skidding just out of range of the projectile. Hackles rose defensively, the whole of her body suddenly infused with adrenaline now thrown into the midst of peril.
“I hadn’t meant to interrupt,” she explained in her own defense, offering her open palms in a show of humility. “I simply intended to observe. My curiosity got the better of me, as it were. I do apologize for my intrusion.”
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The stranger tried to calm Amy, submitting to her presence. Amy relaxed slightly at the given superiority, letting herself hear the words. Curiosity drew you to almost die? What a strange mind you have. Amy hadn't missed the fact that her throwing knife had almost impaled the girl. The motion pleased her, planting a gentle smile on her face. She looked almost welcoming, like the lady she pretended to be. Her warm eyes surveyed the girl, disguising the chilling depths within them. Often she'd heard that her looks were a gift to help her rise in power, and Amy fully believed it. Looking at her gentle appearance one couldn't help but underestimate her, expecting gentleness and humility from the delicate form.
Amy knew that the stranger wouldn't think that though. Having almost died at her hands the stranger would most certainly take Amy seriously by all means. With a graceful gesture Amy invited the wolf into her sparring ring. It may have been curiosity that drew you, but we can make this chance meeting rather beneficial, can we not? Slowly she stepped back, her movements with a lightness only one accustomed to darkness could match. It has been some time since I've been able to spar with another. Perhaps you would do me the honor of being my partner? As repayment for the interruption. Amy's eyes flickered over to the owl, waiting to see it's reaction. Smaller animals tended to be able to sense the deadlier intent beneath her facade, and she hoped this one wouldn't give her away.
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ooc: 352 words. .
She smiled faintly in the face of death, baring no ill will against the woman that only moments before tried to kill her unknowingly. The Nomad blamed it on reflex, further defending the act that she would have done the same had she been that enthralled in her practice. Or at least that was what was uttered in thought in an attempt to calm her startled mind. Yet her companion was not easy swayed to be calm when death smiled to them both. His talons sank deeper into his perched, again tearing through the delicate flesh beneath fur to run red. The astringent aroma wrinkled the Nomad’s nose, forcing a scowl upon her face as she looked to her guide. “Please stop,” she muttered to him, again rounding her shoulder to bid him off her. This time he was more willing to comply having spanned his great wings and took flight to hover above his master. X’yrin returned her gaze to the other with an apologetic smile.
The gesture toward the woman’s camp should have taken her more by surprise, but rather than show her reluctance in a guise of fear, her smile broadened and she nodded receptively. “It is the least I can do,” she agreed cordially, taking a bold step toward the center ring. Her involvement sealed by her cooperation.
The Nomad knew the face of hostility when it reared itself. All it took was a sliver of that truth to come to light and no disguise could ever conceal it from her eyes again. The Exultare were advised to avoid such bringers of death and doom, but with all their skill and practice, it was inevitable they would face the like in their lifetime. It was part of their role as warriors to anticipate this and be prepared… to thwart those that bore the mask of the demon. And this time was no exception. The woman continued to smile, a soft glow to her gaze as she again looked upon the canine and palm offered for the other to take lead. “What shall I do to help you spar?”
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The stranger's easy acceptance of her request pleased Amy. It wasn't like the answers she received from fear or respect. This person was being genuinely nice to her. If any of Amy's heart had remained touchable, she might have felt something for the autumn wolf. Instead she merely inclined her head lightly, watching as the owl departed from it's master's back. Amy hadn't missed the fact that the owl had drawn blood, a scent that tingled in her mind. She wouldn't let that aid her though. Amy truly needed practice, and taking advantage of the other's weakness, while reasonable, would cut down on the time she spent practicing.
I've been practicing with my short sword, so perhaps a tryst with daggers? Expertly Amy's hands drew the daggers, spinning them in a flashy display. It was a useless maneuver, one she'd been told to get rid of over and over again. Showing off like that could give away a good assassin. Most of her moves were silent, understated, and much more powerful than they appeared. The showman in her couldn't resist such a display though, delighting in how she could make the daggers dance to her will. I have some experience with them, but it's been some time since I've actually practiced. The easy movement never left her, leaving Amy to appear completely in control. The small mind of her that screamed in hunger for the blood was easily quenched by her control. She would be patient.
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ooc: 256 words. .
Serenity remained her donned mask of choice as she all but plunged into the invitation offered by this deathly fiend. Her body was relaxed within a comfortable stance, able and willing to act should the moment call for it. The Nomad watched the woman saunter with a queenly air, regality of its own rite. She stood patiently, awaiting what price the canine would have her pay for disrupting her practice… wearing naught but a smile. The Exultare was almost disappointed when the woman suggested a use of daggers, more likely for herself than the taller, silent of the pair. X’yrin nodded with accommodation. “If you’d like, that is fine with me.” One was never going to truly learn their craft without practice… or through lessons of when and when not to act so recklessly.
Carefully the woman slid a leg back to lower her stance and shift her weight. Her previous notions of keeping this little encounter civil had lost its appeal at this blatant show of ill utilized skill. She could not feel intimidated in the face in this cocky behavior. Death dealer or not, she lacked the composure of one with great ability. As she further flaunted her blades, X’yrin began to question why she was bothering to humor this girl at all. She hadn’t done anything to harm her… just disturbed her practice. Yet she remained if for the opportunity of righting this fellow warrior’s wrong path.
“We may start when you’d like.”
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Amy didn't need a further invitation. Her movements were smooth, almost passing as a trick of the light. Not one inch of movement was wasted, each contained to spend the least energy possible. Unlike the flashy show she'd done before, Amy's movements became understated, hiding the true skill beneath it. A warrior would be able to see the true difficulty in the movement, but anyone else watching would make the mistake of thinking it child's play, easy to do and easier to dodge.
With one dagger Amy aimed to slice open the hand, making it difficult to move. The other dagger was a shadow behind it, a mimic to keep harm from coming. Attempts to grab the dagger or harm her arm while she struck out would be met with a quick retaliation, striking deeper into the flesh. Her balance was perfect, ready to push her forward or leap back with a single shift.
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The coming attack was nothing like a spar with her student; there was incredible intent behind such movements that became the precursor to something sinister. Still, upon her face was a quiet calm, her amber hues wide and in time with the silent assassin’s movements. Her smile waned only slightly, the façade of elation cracking to the pressure of battle.
Swiftly the woman pivoted left on her right foot, then harshly kicked the ground with her left to string her back and out of proximity of her attacker. She needn’t profess to the girl how fatal the wound would have been had she the intention of reaching for her weapon bared arm. It was quite clear she knew the consequences of her actions… but not whom she fought against. Again her calm smile slipped a fraction, a sort of disgust bleeding into her eyes and marring her quivering lips. She made no move to advance, rather kept her stance loose with weight settled at her feet to keep her firm.
Attack: None
Defense: Pivoted left, then lept backwards out of the way
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The stranger simply leaped back from her attack. Amy saw the disgust in the enemy's eyes, and her gentle smile dropped, replaced by the neutral study of a fighter. Without pause she slid forward, ducking downwards. Her blow was aimed for the thigh this time. Amy had managed to move close enough to make kicking difficult, but not impossible. With the other dagger Amy went to drive into the same leg. Either way the stranger decided to move, the leg wouldn't come out unscathed.
Teeth bared Amy glanced up, watching for movement from above. She didn't know what the stranger's reaction would be, but it was obvious she had training. That didn't deter her though. It simply meant that Amy would get decent exercise out of this. If things went well Amy might even seek the girl out again for another battle. If she survived, of course. Amy didn't plan on killing the girl, but her moves were deadly for the untrained.
Attack: Move forwards and duck down. Right dagger straight towards right leg, left dagger aiming for the inside of the right leg.
Defense: Look up, bare teeth
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ooc:
Her evasion was met with a relentless advance provoked by naught but the scowl on her face. Her eyes were not laden with regret or worry for her voluntary choice as she played her part, but they had clouded gradually. Their shimmering light had dulled to a vacant hue as thought fled her mind and instinct presided, surrendering her movements to a single notion that kept her moving ably; survival.
The trained eyes watched for tell of another attack, following the sudden dive for her leg. Hurriedly, she again leapt back but not without the sting of the first dagger grazing the inside of her leg. Pain was not a foreign sensation but an unwelcomed one as she had hoped in vain that this encounter would not draw blood. A shame it would be hers first. Silently she scolded herself for having been wounded while awarding herself a moment to reassess. It was unlikely she would leave this mess without exchanging a blow or two, but it was hardly a fear of further injury that kept her from doing so; the Exultare simply did not harbor a strong enough desire to cause her assailant genuine harm.
She growled low to the other, passively lowering her ears to coax this assassin to withhold her fatal blows. Whether her silent words held sway was completely to the disposition of the other. However her defensive posture suggested nothing of an easy target should the girl not heed reason and choose madness instead.
Attack: None
Defense: Leaps back to apply distance. Loosened stance
Injury: Graze on the inner thigh of right leg from the first dagger. (Mild bleeding)
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Once more the girl leaped back. It was frustrating to have her sparring partner continually backing away. She'd wanted someone to fight against, not someone to chase down. Watching with hooded eyes Amy noted the lowering of ears. The girl had not expected injuries from it, and was warning her to slow down. With no reason to pursue again Amy herself backed up, checking the range. She wanted to make sure if the girl chose to move forward on an attack she was out of striking distance.
From there Amy pulled her daggers in. She positioned them loosely at her side, almost appearing as if she'd decided the female wasn't worth her effort. The position appeared to be full of openings. In reality, her hands were positioned to make quick work of an attacker. Attacks would be met by a swift block and a stab into the stomach. All of her moves held defense and offense, ready to take off at the slightest hint. She was an assassin after all, one trained to make quick work of their enemies and vulnerable to blows from trained fighters.
Attack:None
Defense: Draw back, hold daggers at ready
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ooc: 387 words. .
Complying to her silent beckon, her contender eventually drew in her weapons but still the air of wary surrounded her. The hostile air was suffocating stealing her breath after each was so carefully taken. Against her own desires and the creed of her family, she would not be able to thwart the front of unwarranted hostility this day. It was quite obvious her mind was not in the proper set to deal with this. She knew nothing of this girl, where she hailed, what she had done. It was by her own curiosity that she was drawn into her midst and inevitably into this hostile’s realm. But she hadn’t caused her harm save for this wound after the fact. The Exultare truly had no reason to remain or appeal to the whims of the blood craven.
Humbly, the Nomad lowered her head. The gesture signaled the descent of the hovering owl with grandiose talons against settling upon her shoulder. He hooted knowingly to his master trusting her ears to receive his scolding message. “I suppose this makes you the victor,” the woman spoke softly as she rose; a soft smile once again sat in place upon her lips. “I am afraid I’m not as a practiced as you. I haven’t the time to truly indulge as I’d like… duty to the pack takes priority… as it does now.” She wasn’t too keen on playing the role of a naïve fool, yet it was better than the alternative of provoking a prolonged engagement. A sliver of disappointment graced her carefully placed mask, ears tilted down with her maw delicately creased in a frown. “I apologize this wasn’t longer, but I do have my responsibilities to think of. Perhaps if our paths cross again I could be of better assistance to your training.”
…by the gods she sincerely hoped fate was not so cruel as to accommodate her empty offer.
Ever watchful of the death dealer in blonde disguise, she stepped further back setting herself into a comfortable backpedal til she felt there was amble distance between them to turn her back and continue on her way. “This was interesting,” she called over her shoulder but did not bother to spare the girl another glance. The Nomads’ traditional wish of reunion was forfeit for an exit of silence.
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Amy was truly disappointed that her target was so soft. Her words were empty, appeasing but meaningless. She nodded her head at the female's words, frustrated that she hadn't even had the time to break into a sweat. Watching the girl turn and walk away Amy considered resuming her practice. She would have, if not for the last words the autumn wolf called
Her temper flared. Not caring what would happen next Amy drew a throwing knife and chucked it at the retreating girl's back. She would not be taken so lightly. So help her, she would make the girl pay for her careless words. She did not exist just for her amusement.
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ooc: 358 words. I'm sensing an attack the next time they meet. XD
Her eyes were to the path ahead of her; her mind set on melding back into the woodlands and returning home. The owl upon her shoulder though was not so content to discard the woman from his thoughts. He watched her, his eyes holding an unnatural gleam. His proud head literally on a swivel turned fully around to the assailant firmly within his sights. What would have become of his master had he not been with her?
The flash of movement tightened his talons upon the Nomad’s shoulder regarded with anger as he cried out his warning. “Wolf!” The woman whipped around in an instant nearly toppling her avian off her shoulder. Startled gaze met the glimmer of metal then a sudden searing pain across her muzzle. The woman gasped in pain, hastily grabbing her now bleeding maw. The stench of her own blood invaded her flared nostrils with nausea not too far on the rise in her gullet.
In that moment, she was on longer in the neutral plain, but among the Nomads forcibly dealing with X’yro once again. The fool didn’t know when to cease his actions either, and like him, this woman was not far behind him on the path to madness. But the female Nomad did not see this woman ascending to Shepard greatness after her ordeal through the path of darkness. She only saw further darkness in her future… and she genuinely pitied the fool.
“Watch her,” X’yrin uttered softly to her companion for his ears alone to comprehend. His clenching talons were nothing compared to the pain that not ailed her muzzle. She needed to find a water source quickly before the scent of the wound attracted unwanted attention. She offered not word to the girl and again turned her back on her, proceeding with the same purposeful stride as if unstirred by this underserved attack. They passed a wounded tree baring the weapon that struck her, but receive no mercy in removing the knife. The Nomad left it be, wanting more than a revenge counter to wash the blood of her hands and nose and return to her path to home.
[Exit X'ryin]
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