The Great Escape
#1
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OOC here!



Tan furred feet pounded against the ground as Ezequiel dashed through the muddy streets of London, wishing desperately that he had his staff with him. The collie cross had left his staff back in the warehouse where he and Anita were hiding in an attempt to not draw attention to himself; with its unusual design the staff was an easily traceable weapon.


Unfortunately his eyes had given him away and within five minutes of setting foot on the docks he was being chased away, fleeing for his life as the pursuers that has dogged him and his sister halfway across the world caught sight of him.


Ezequiel was far from unequipped, ten throwing knives and one small, wicked looking curved dagger were present across the bandolier that he wore but even so, Ezequiel always felt better with the staff across his back. Something about the feel of the elegant, curved designs engraved all along the weapon gave him confidence in battle. He liked to think that it was the spirit of his mother fighting alongside him, fiercely pushing away the voice deep inside him that dismissed that as childish hope.


With a lightning quick change of direction Ezequiel darted into a side alley, throwing himself into a dumpster. Fortunately this dumpster had seen some use by Luperci and still had some smell about it, enough to hide his own at least. Not a second later Ezequiel, peeking through a crack in the aged and rusted metal, caught sight of his pursuers. While Ezequiel was fairly tattooed these jackals took it t ridiculous lengths, their light brown bodies almost bald from the burns necessary to fit the curving black tattoos that snaked across their entire beings. Ezequiel took a moment to sneer at the tattoos, or more specifically the rough red skin visible where the burning had gone to far; Anita's work had none of those, the burn marks fitting the ink perfectly even with things as delicate as the butterfly on his hand.


There was only three of the jackals outside and, being pure jackals, they were far smaller and slighter than a hybrid like Ezequiel. However Ezequiel did not jump out to confront them and instead waited. Each jackal carried a blade at its waist, a sword sized version of Ezequiel's own curved knife, and he knew from experience that they were ridiculously quick and dangerous with them. "Sruthán i ifreann" The angry hybrid muttered under his breath, staying his tongue once more when one of the jackals perked an ear.


So instead he waited until they moved on and then popped his head out of the dumpster, only to freeze at what he saw.


One of the jackals has remained behind, a triumphant look her eyes as she saw him. The jackal barely had time to half draw her sword, the hunting cry she had been intending still silent on her lips, before Ezequiel moved automatically, a throwing knife driving through the jackals eye and into her brain.

Ezequiel didn’t stay to retrieve his knife, he had plenty of spares in his pack back at the warehouse, and instead launched himself at the wall on the far side of the alley, scrambling up the broken and rotten stonework swiftly. By the time the dead jackal was discovered and his trail tracked up the wall he was long gone, dashing across the rooftops to safety.


/15 minutes later/


Ezequiel slipped quietly through the door of the warehouse, noting with some satisfaction that Anita had taken his advice and kept the place dark. Warily he crept inwards, eyes and ears on the lookout for his ginger-highlighted sister. His trip into the dumpster had left its mark, Ezequiel's fur was scuffed up and he had several nasty scratches running down his forearm where he had caught it on some rusty metal, the wound smelling sharply of blood, rust and several more unpleasant things, but he was alive, which was a step up from what the jackals had had in store for him. "Annie? Ye around lass?" Ezequiel's voice echoed into the darkness quietly, though the last word had a discernable smugness to it; Ezequiel was a full minute older than his sister and took every possible opportunity to remind her of this fact.


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#2
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Worried, that was all she felt as she sat in the blackest of darkness she swears she had ever had to sit through. Why did she have to keep it so dark, sure her brother suggested it but shy did she have to listen? Delicate fingers clutched at the end of her skirt as she tried to relax her nerved though it failed miserably. He knew how afraid of the dark she was, how she hated to o be in the dark and alone. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she thought of their pursuers; they hadn’t got him had they? Oh no if they were to get him she would be lost, she would be next.

The collie cross breed shivered outwardly as she sunk further into the worn coach they had found not long ago. Her fingers traced the worn stitching and many patches that lined the green furniture, again trying to rid her of her fears. She had to focus on something else; Ezequiel was stronger than her he would be fine. He even had that strange weapon that he always clung to, with that he surely could get rid of the rogues.

Dichromatic colored eyes closed the darkness, hiding from it as she thought of memories that could take her mind off of everything around her. Though that did not last long, the sharp and metallic smell of blood hit her nose and in an instant her eyes here back open. This time she could see, her eyes now adjusted she just had to look for her brother’s silhouette and follow his voice.

Anita rose from the couch and stepped closer to her brother, her ears pinned against her skull in worry as she moved her hand to touch his. ”Are ye okay Ezzy?” Her voice full of worry, her accent not as back as her brother’s. She took after her father more, even though she associated with her mother the most. The collie cross whimpered and whined as she moved her hand him her brothers arm, gently so that she would not hurt him, only to flinch at the feeling of wetness against his soft fur.

The girl whimpered again and then moved to lead her brother to the coach; she needed to fix him up. Clean the wound and then wrap it up, the thought of his wounds getting infected terrified her. She hate to use the skills her mother taught her, though Ezequiel was the stronger of the two, she was the one with the knowledge of health and cleaning.




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