Firefly Glen Follow the Signs

@Hydra please!! Give me that lovely lady. Also @Monty if you want him tacking Rosen after our thread! Just so you know where this boy goes

Dripping, oozing, Rosencrantz took a detour he knew of after his time of being lost from Rusalka. As much as the paladin desired to go straight back to Rusalka and get his wounds looked over, he couldn't risk bringing the cannibal straight to their doorstep without any evasive meneuvers at all. Keeping to the rivers to wash out his scent, the cold water would was away the old blood just for new to come oozing out again - the wounds were deep and only time would tell what would come of it, how much of himself had been torn away from the encounter. 

Already he could feel the cold where it did not belong on his face, once covered by lip and flesh, he could swear it was exposed, every tooth on that same acursed side of his. It was either blood or saliva that seeped from between his teeth but something was wet on his chin and he could not stop the spill from moistening his face further. He had yet to taken the chance to check his reflection, focused on weaving a trail as impossible as he could to weave so that the cannibal would be left in a confusing trail - what kind of monster was left behind in the wake of that beast? What was left as a man for Rosencrantz to be?

A shell of a man wandered the glen, the budding leaves on the trees indicated the frost had passed and soon they would all be plagued by the heat of summer. A ghoul, barely alive or dead bathed in the liquid light of the full faced moon above. Of all times now he wished for the bitter, numbing, sensation of frost kissing his exposed flesh to keep the pain from radiating from every missing part of him.

Blood.

@Alya and herself all but flew to find who the scent on the wind belonged to. Another victim, or a victim-to-be? 

The sight she saw was utterly revolting, but Hydra had seen far more morbid things than this. She herself had plucked an eye clean from her enemy; watched as her sister stepped on that very same eye. Several others Hydra had scarred, too, though this was... different. Not something she feared at least, but something she needed to know the cause behind. 

She and Alya slowed at the sight of him, stopping a good distance away. Hydra had a keen enough eye to think she could discern monster from its victim, but thinking would never satisfy her. A low snarl ekked forth from her throat; a promise to him, or if any watched or thought to do any more damage then the sound was for them. To make a wrong move from this point on was to their peril. 

Who did this to you? Hydra inquired darkly, wondering if it might be Caiaphas, the shade, or Merrick; beyond all that blood, their scent did not roll forth from the winterwhite male. He was absolutely ruined, his face ripped and shorn on one side beyond repair (so it looked). Did you make them bleed in the same way? Hydra asked in the next beat, sensing her sisters attention. A flick of the ear between the two of them, subtle and natural in their environment, communicated the thought they seemed to mutually share: which of you will die for this? 

It was not a good time to become an enemy of hers. Hydra would unite the world to see each and every one of those named such dead... Rosencrantz, in fact, would look like a piece of art next to those that threatened her family now. At least there was something left of his face. Something left of him.

Have to make a trail, have to be convoluted without reason, without a proper trail, have to confuse and lose. He thought over and over to himself as he wandered the glen, a ghost of pale and red with nothing left but an empty void that once shine true in that eye. The flame flickered out, all he could do was try to survive and make it to the next day. The next day, one by one they would become easier, it's what allowed him to go through with the burn he had lived through previously.

The snarl caught his attention first, adrenalin forcing the man to move to face the direction from which it came. The wicked face he already held twisted in his own snarl, defensive, offensive, hell he didn't know. Whoever it was, he was no easy prey - a fight to the death would be the highest of honour; of course... provided that he wasn't devoured. Even he didn't think being prey to another was an honourable way to disappear into this world. On top of it all there were two who lurked around him... the odds were not in his favour. Was today the day for the paladin to cease existing?

With hackles raised, the question was curious. There was no immediate meet of teeth and pain, but isntead of questions and answers. Cannibal. Who indeed was a good question, something he wasn't even certain the answer was to that. Don't know. He didn't have time to check, just to leave with what little of him was left.

Cannibal. Do you share in such a predilection? she pressed then; the answer meant his survival, or lack of it this day. Sick wolves, cannibals, when untethered. They could simply eat anyone. Hydra could not have such a manner of wolf within her Wilderness. Surely he could guess at that, though. His answer could be a false one. Something in her told her, better to be safe than sorry. Hydra was less inclined to trust strangers these days than ever. And a face like that was far from trustworthy. 

Well then, she considered, what did they look like, this cannibal? Better to know and be safe knowing than caught off guard by a smiling stranger that was a cannibal. What if said cannibal ran with her enemies, too? She would have to tell Moonspear of this latest development; things were on a downward trend, it seemed. I have wolves I must protect. That I will protect. Did you get a good look at thim, before? she hoped he had; she hoped, too, that he remembered.

No. There was an air of disgust as he spat out his answer, quite literally now as he seemed to have a hard time controlling the saliva that leaked between his teeth, normally caught and controlled by the lips surrounding it. He was not sick, not like that man, if one could call that beast anything like a man.

He had... Fur like the beach. Any other time it would be easier to think at what the man looked like, to explain details. He could see the man in his thoughts but the words escaped him, the pain in his face made it hard to focus. Wet and dry. The dark and lighter markings that the cannibal had he meant. Green eyes. Tired, he felt tired.

Fur like the beach... wet and dry. Poetic. Green eyes. She could sense the mans lethargy, but did not want him resting here to bring the cannibal within her Wilderness. He had given her information, however. Not too close to Moonspear where they stood at present, Hydra exhaled a heavy breath as she considered. The matriarch had her own search to resume, for her own band of merry murderers. Now there was a cannibal, too. 

She grimaced. 

Her best bet at finding said cannibal was letting him rest here. If he was being followed, that was. Supposing that he was, Hydra gestured to a brambled bush behind her, and drawled, get some rest there. If he comes for you while you do, I will be here. I do detest cannibals, well, at least unless her survival depended on it... which history had shown. The matriarch thought to herself, too, that I am not beneath becoming one if only to give them the burial they deserve. And then, they would become fertilizer to feed the earth and help it grow. Fitting, and also poetic. A corpse could feed the earth by itself though, and since prey had returned it would not be a waste at least.

Her offer was kind, I don't know you. but his lack of faith in strangers was evident further. Granted she could have killed him already if she had wanted to, but how could be certain of her sticking around and leaving him for dead in the brush should someone come wandering by? In his mindset, he had a better chance of survival by continuing to move. Thank you... however. it wouldn't go unappreciated at the very least. 

If you see him, kill him. Don't waste time. He grimaced, at the pain and at the thought of the cannibal being let off any kind of hook once found. The man had to die, a stain in the wilds that would spread like a disease. During the famine, he would have possibly been more understanding, but now, with the prey returned, there was no other reason than for him to be sick. Not worth your mercy.

Given his recent encounter, Hydra could understand and not feel affronted by his declining of her offer. Hydra simply nods. Though she suspected he might die if he slept without someone watching his back, he could not know that she had no interest in killing him. Is his smell still on you? She inquired, ear flicking. Hydra took a step toward him, though no more than that so as to respect his personal space until she knew. The scent of his own blood was overwhelming, new and old, but if he permitted her near enough she might be able to differentiate between his and theirs if the scent still could be gathered. 

As for showing mercy, and not wasting time, Hydra drawled: neither is in my nature. Hydra was a defender, not a woman known for compassion toward those that she considered even a potential threat. She was certain this male before her had fight left in him, but she was also certain that between the two of them should things come to blows because she had been incorrect about him all along she would still be the victor. Not without gaining some of her own wounds, naturally. Hydra's instinct demand she keep on guard and alert, for more reasons than just him being there before her. 

Hydra did not want him dead; despite his appearance, that sixth sense that most survivalists seemed to carry did not give her any intuitive feeling that this, he, was wrong. That feeling that made your skin crawl, that made your stomach sink. When you were around something that was abnormal or not quite right.

Even if her inquiry was enough to announce her intentions were not hostile, the step she took forward was enough to trigger a defensive stance. Perhaps against his own good intentions, a growl rippled through, he was clearly feeling uneasy with being approached by someone he didn't know before the attack. Can... can you even smell him through my own? Eventually, the words came to him, as he spoke the paladin found his zen once more and realized the razor's blade he walked along. 

This time he took a single step forward to greet her, inviting the dark woman in to take a sniff.

Good. Even if it is what he wanted to hear, it was still enough to keep his guard up around her. He'd stay near the woman just long enough for her to pick out any scent on him that wasn't his own, and proceed to create space again. Caution, he couldn't risk being blindsided again. He had lost so much already, so much blood, energy, skin, even if he would put up a fight until the very end, Rosencrantz knew he wouldn't be able to fend off this one let alone her companion to boot.

At least, in this case, it would be more honourable than becoming someone's prey, a meal, and nothing more.

rolled a success in picking up his scent & consent from cyprin !

 

She had a keener nose than most, but even she was not certain if it was capable of this. With so much blood upon him, there was but one way for her to find out. It seemed as though he would not give her the opportunity to at first before he did take a step in her direction, and at that Hydra realized he had relented to let her do so. 

The matriarch wasted no time, though kept her ears close to her crown lest he try to go for one then, and her muzzle dipped to protect her throat. She stepped in such a way that for the most part, her body would be out of reach, but instinctively she prepared to meet his fangs with her own should she be wrong about it. 

It was not the case, and Hydra's nose worked through the scents upon him. It took a few moments, but the scent of his opponent was found due to his opponents blood that had distinct differences from the male before her. It was wolf, and yet the scent could be related to that of a rodent. Rat, to be specific. Once she had it, Hydra stepped away and nodded that she had what she needed. 

Behind her, Alya began to mark over the trail the male before her had made; Hydra would join her shortly to do the same though not before advising, you should be on your way. It seemed if someone was after him, staying still for too long would only endanger him further.

Cautiously the woman approached, naturally they were both a little defensive as they neared one another. It took immense trust from both parties and frankly, as they both retreated once she picked out what she desired, Rosencrantz had gained some more trust from this woman by the single act that went without a hitch. It was minor, but trust was earned after all with every little action in time.

And honestly; Rosencrantz was running out of trust in anyone these days. 

With a nod, he began on his sluggish journey away. Offering a single Goodluck. With a groggy tune before disappearing in the distance. They would meet again, a little too soon and on bitter terms, only time would tell if the little trust he had was dashed or no.

We can end it here if you'd like! Thank you Kit for a wonderful thread as always! <3

Hydra nodded to him. Luck did not seem to be on his side. Perhaps now it would be. Although he had not attacked her, Hydra understandably still had her own reservations... no fault of his own, really, but simply the circumstances of her own life and the events that had recently transpired. It was difficult to know who to trust in full. But he did not attack her, and so it could not be said that she believed him a malevolent wolf as they looked upon one another. 

May yours improve, she offered at length. He looked as though he would survive this as he was now, so perhaps it already had. And then, she continued about her work. 

<3 last from me!