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+--- Thread: Firefly Glen an honest man (/showthread.php?tid=37812)
an honest man - Hydra - December 01, 2019
@Merrit ; post Mal thread! So, severely backdated
Hydra moved from forest to Glen; the Queen took her time about it, too. She had the scent of the curs whose blood she was out for, and the mind to kill them if she caught wind of them. Though it had sounded as though they had moved in a direction leaving the Wilderness, her tactical mind forewarned that this could be a ploy to lead them in the wrong direction—not by Mal, who she was not certain had the mind for such a thing, but by Blackhead—and she was not a woman who would give them the chance to surprise her.
The Queen did not go alone. With her, now, was the Easthollow wolf who was no stranger to her. It occured to her, while her nose hovered over the frostkissed earth, that this was the second time he had aided her. Throughout her investigation her attention was also upon him, subtle and difficult to know if one did not know her very well; now she made it more obvious as her head lifted and her gaze turned to find him.
Names were not so important; his scent was one she would not forget, and names changed all the time. He had managed to forget his own, after all.
Have you remembered your name?She inquired in the quiet gloom, curious; her pause was momentary as she drew near a naked shrub, inspecting it for any tufts of fur left behind by the beings they sought. Hydra had one for him now, based from a story her father had told her so very long ago... but she likened what she recalled of its hero to the dark male beside her now, who had so willingly joined her on her quest, violent though it was sure to be.
RE: an honest man - Merrit - December 02, 2019
The ground swam with scents -- many of them, the wolves of Mal -- yet he sought for hers to spring forth like a salt river in a desert waste. He had known her for only a second, but as he had lain in that field (crumbled down, against his own want and will), her scent had swarmed him, and when he had risen, it was like she had become a part of him; the sting of bitter water was a current he would not soon let himself forget.
As he and Hydra moved out and away from Neverwinter, and Mal's scent faded with the release of his claim to neutral ground, he sought for her amongst the trail they followed, as he sought for the others, too -- as he had discovered, there were more who bent their eyes to kill. So he would kill them, too; for they had mounted the blood of the innocent upon their heads, and justice would bring their heavy heads to the ground, and so put to sleep the blood they revelled in.
Yet he found nothing; their trail hid within the vast landscape of the glen, and his frustration mounted in the silence, until Hydra's voice broke his fixatation. Slowly, Merrit drew his nose away from the ground.
"I have always known it," he said simply, and inclined his eyes toward a rustling in the woods -- the leaves swayed, but a moment's pause revealled that it was only the wind. He returned his voice to her question, "But I prefer it to remain lost, both to my tongue and to yours, just as I prefer to let these wild winds sweep the scent of my family clean from my skin. I know what a danger the hooded hag is to anyone who crosses her. I cannot risk my family being caught even further in her crossfire. So I will hunt her, and her curs, and I will lose my name and my place before my mother -- if it so means that my family, and these Wilds, will be safe in the end." Who knew how long he would be? There were more to avenge than Leta now, and his mind turned to his patron stone again. The cries of the lost fell silent to many, but he felt them, heard them, calling, crying, shouting out to him -- and he turned to Hydra then, to watch her face through a shrouded glance, "You may call me what you wish."
RE: an honest man - Hydra - December 03, 2019
UGH. UR WRITING. R U KIDDING ME.
Hydra listened to his words, and saw wisdom in them. He did not know her, not enough to trust her entirely, but she would not reveal his name to any; her purpose was similar to his own. Hydra was nothing if not careful herself, understanding well the risks. When he looked away, Hydra considered for a moment before speaking.
Names do not matter. Not much,she hummed.
They are given, they are taken; sometimes they are forgotten. Some wolves have but one; others have many,she shrugged, but thought even then of their enemy. Blackhead, witch, hag, Caiaphas; a rose called by any other name would smell just as sweet, and she likely just as salty. It was as though the coast itself had bore her, Hydra's keen nose detecting the unremovable hint of that... just as if any were to catch a good whiff of her, cold and sterile stone might be the one thing that she ever could not remove. She was a woman cut from stone, just as Caiaphas may have been a woman molded by the sand (though that, she was far from certain of).
Looking back to him now, Hydra licked her chops.
You remind me of a story my father once told, long ago. These stories, they speak of creatures that are not real—but I think every story has truth in it. The story was of a wolf named Theseus; he needed to go through some labryinth before he fought some strange creature, like a bull or bison but far stronger than both, that demanded the sacrifice of children,Hydra grinned as she considered,
stories like that are born of journeys like ours, made far grander than they are.Why that was, she was not sure; Hydra much preferred the simple truth, and would be compelled to listen to how any wolf was slain with tooth and claw. Looking to him, and considering, Hydra she decided:
so, I will call you Theseus.He looked like a Theseus might look, she supposed. Did Caiaphas look like a great, big bullbeast?
In any event, Hydra continued to sniff around, still considering things. And then, she looked back to Theseus. It was, thus far, in that way alone she was reminded of the story.
Your family will never leave her crossfire,Hydra drawled,
for even now, she has sought to implicate you and yours in the murder of the mercenary. And I can tell you this, Theseus; the lone wolf may die, but the pack survives. Your hooded hag is not alone. I understand well enough the risk my own intervention might cause, but I think this is a cause all can stand behind and fight for.Hydra's mind had yet to stop its work.
War. War for the future of this Wilds. Her children, and others children, safe; Caiaphas and those that ran with her, hunted by all.
But then there was the matter of food, and the weakened state of many who were not getting near enough. The timing of it all was terrible, she thought, looking away for a moment as she continued to investigate, think. Easthollow had aided her sister in her time of need as they could; Theseus, though no longer with them, surely would be if he did not fear endangering them. Hydra looked over her shoulder to him as she moved, pausing as she turned sidelong to regard him entirely.
Join my ranks. Fight with us all,she invited; he did so already, in any case. He need not starve in the meantime, and he was a capable, strong male. None could hope to succeed on an empty stomach. They would keep one another safe, and the strength between them went beyond just their numbers.
RE: an honest man - Merrit - December 13, 2019
eee <3 <3 I love your writing too!!! Also I apologize if this is incohesive, I did not read anything over before posting, and my brain is half asleep, so... haha
Merrit was not entirely sure he agreed with her sentiments. True, that names might be forgotten -- his mother, after all, had named a Stone for those who were lost, by choice or by accident. But would he ever forget their names, even those he had never truly known? Stark, Keen, Ezekiel, Ezra, Clary, Sesi... and he supposed his own name fell amongst theirs, now. No, there was far too much to behold in a name to deem such matters irrelevant, unimportant: an identity, a mark of family. His mother had chosen his, and in forsaking his moniker, he scored an unmendable wound through the fabric of who he was. He would always be Merrit, son of Valette, son of Easthollow -- whatever that meant for him now.
But to Hydra, he would be someone new, and the man turned his eyes on her with a spark of curiosity when she began her tale. The words she wove, they resonated in him, and he felt his throat sting as though touched with bile. This creature they sought was no bison or bull, but if the strength of their brutality could spill out as guile, then he feared he faced an opponent much stronger. And did she not seek the death of children? And had his life not felt like a labryinth, in the way it turned its course in ways he had neither expected nor known, corriders brimmed with trouble after trouble to fight and overcome?
"Theseus," he repeated, and his lips quirked up in a ghostly smile. Perhaps it was pretentious, to adopt such a name -- but he had a feeling he was already apart of something bigger, far grander, than he had known when he had fled from Easthollow.
But whatever thread of pleasure had crossed his face at the name she'd bestowed him returned to a face of stone, chipped with a flame of fury that mounted within his breast. "That wretch!" his tail whipped like a serpent behind him, his voice rumbled through clenched teeth. "I will rend her -- " and he quieted his threat, stilled himself. A short silence lapsed between them, and Hydra's words repeated over and over in his mind. How dare those curs drip poison on his mother's name?
Perhaps to rile him had been part of Hydra's plan; yet Merrit was grateful, as sick as the yearning for vengeance turned him. Vengeance? Justice. It did not matter, they had become one in the same. He turned to her without missing a beat, save for the slight pause that had always been characteristic of the man. But his eyes spoke his answer. "I will join your ranks. I will join your fight. This has become more than what I had known it to be."
But there was one thing -- "Easthollow does not train us to fight," he admitted, and he felt that thirst rise again, the one he had first felt when he had encountered Tulimaq. And perhaps this, in part, accounted for his ire against Greyback. It should have been Greyback who sought to pursue the Blackhead, who perceived the threat and rallied the pack. Merrit knew he should be standing alongside Easthollow... but they had done very little. West, and Newt, and Clay... they were all too young, and if Greyback would not step up and take that charge...
Merrit continued, "I trained for a short while with a wolf by the name of Tulimaq, but he disappeared shortly after we began our sessions. I am afraid that what I know comes from informal experience. Train me, and I will fight alongside you."
RE: an honest man - Hydra - December 18, 2019
Hydra heard him, heard his rage, and her gaze shifted to him.
In time,she agreed. Hydra would see to it as best as she could. Hydra had not sought to rile him, but rather to inform him so he did not go into this without knowing the manner of the woman it was they dealt with. The plot of the seawitch was more than just the removal of a bloodline, but the besmirching of it. For now, Hydra was a step ahead of her—but for how long would that last? For Hydra, vengeance and justice were one of the same in this moment. Hydra had no vengeance to execute, but justice... that, she would have. That way, she need not worry for the former.
He accepted her offer, and for that Hydra was glad. Hydra could not imagine Valette would be pleased with her son for his decisions, or even she herself for her enabling of it... but she would not let him go into the fray alone. Hydra would fight alongside Theseus, and teach him the ways of battle. That was what she would do for Valette; more than that, she would help the woman get her justice, too.
As he spoke of his lack of training, she was not at all surprised. Nikai, after all, knew little himself and he too had come from Easthollow. Instincts could only get a wolf so far, though, in a true fight—and in one for survival, which it might surely come to, far more than that was needed.
I will train you,she hummed, pausing.
You must learn to fight well before you pursue this woman in full, Theseus. She has incapacitated a wolf the size of a bear; she is an expert, and will make quick work of anyone without the proper training,she forewarned. That much, Hydra was certain of. Caiaphas had not been in full strength even then; no doubt she, too, had been starving like so many were.
And she was not alone. She was alongside someone who had already killed; who knew how many times? Looking to Theseus, which now she did, she felt certain that he had yet to kill another in his lifetime beyond prey. His rage had found no proper recourse, no one had bled for their wrongdoings against he and his ilk. Could he?
I want to know,she said then, her gaze still holding him, her voice dark:
do you know what we must do? How this must end?Did he understand that the end to this fight must be the deaths of the three who waged such violence against the innocents?