Bramblepoint five nights at freddy's

She'd been here before, and felt comfortable enough heading to Bramblepoint—keeping close enough to the Caldera—that there was some pep in her step. Small as she was, it was easy to weasel her way into nooks and crannies and thoroughly explore the place. Her green eyes greedily devoured the landscape before her as she memorized her route. 

Moving into more open terrain, Clover surveyed her surroundings. The young Blackthorn licked her chops as she gazed at the horizon, wanting to go ever forward but knowing that today was not that day. Sure that she'd been gone long enough to be missed, she turned around and headed back at a lazy pace, keen on observing her surroundings and getting the most out of her trip.

The devil slunk away from his latest kill with blood coating his muzzle and drizzled into the fur along his chest. The piebald serpent moved with an unnatural grace, gliding on stilt-like limbs that never seemed to stop their rapid movement. He had just eaten, but Ithrik hungered for more – meat of a different kind. His swaying steps carried him in search of a target, and he was not surprised by what he found in the twisting brambles. A pair of jack-o-lantern optics settled on her form with a burning interest and a desire that bristled his coat. Even from where he was hidden, Ithrik could see that she was small and young as could be. Her flesh would still be tender from youth and his body could easily overcome her, even on his worst days.

The prowling beast slowed his pace and swung wide to the right, holding himself out of sight of the beautiful, plump little creature. He had trekked through the brambles with every intention of feeling their sting. Ithrik had allowed them to sink so deeply into his flesh that his shoulder was dripping blood as it ran down to his elbow. He would feign injury and ask for her help. Drawing his tongue over his lips, the vile hound circled around her and watched where she would not yet be able to see him.

Clover continued on her merry, oblivious way. Even as a girl raised in a time of war, she was none the wiser to life and its way of grabbing the naive by the throat and throttling them into awareness. That wasn't to say she was stupid. Sure, she'd gamely fight a bear if the situation presented itself and someone double-dog dared her... but she knew, typically, what to do and what not to do. 

Alright, her concept of stupid was more than a little skewed. To her benefit, of course. 

She loitered in the wide open spaces of Bramblepoint as she traversed home. With the sun just beginning to go down, she'd soon blend in perfectly with the monochrome world. She was given pause as a ray blinded her, and Clover snorted out a rude, to the sun as she continued forward.

The girl remained occupied, but Ithrik felt this put him at an advantage. She was traveling in a direct path, and the piebald wolf assumed that it would be the pack that was nearby. He could smell the markings on their territory from even that distance; it allowed him to believe that they had a good number beyond their borders. If he drew too close to their edges, if he attempted to attack one of their own so close to her own home, it would mean he would be hunted. Still, she was so perfectly petite. He knew that she would taste scrumptious.

Ithrik began to move toward her; his legs carried him as swiftly as they could, and he aimed to close a great deal of distance as was possible before she would notice him. His eyes were locked to her frame and his lips curled over his teeth. Pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth, he exhaled sharply in a whistle that wheezed from the back of his throat like rattling death.

clo rn

His heavy plod could not be missed the nearer it came. Clover looked 'round her shoulder to see a man moving rapidly in her direction, fugly as could be, and his leering wolf whistle was met with an appropriately venomous: the fuck??? before her own pace turned into that of a sprint. For good measure, she tossed her head up and howled for the pack (@Finley @Elwood @Towhee @Colt) to both spook him and truly summon them—she was a tough cookie to scare, but there was something terribly unnerving about that man. One look was all it took to make her feel like she'd been covered with the sort of grime no one would enjoy.

She had enough street smarts to know that she needed to get the hell out of dodge. Clover moved out of the open view and into the brambles, able to slip into them easily enough and maneuver with a quickness not deterred by obstacles. Even if he was tracking her and did not care for the brambles in his way, at the very least his obstacles would blockade him from a swift assault.

He isn't there, I'll have him arrive in a while :D joining with permission!

Colt had actually been out in a (rather stupid, honestly) attempt to check on Blackfeather.  He didn't trust them to stay gone, and with that dwelling on his mind, he told no one as he departed the territory to see what was up in the hopefully deserted forest.

He didn't get very far, though, when a frantic call halted his progress.  Immediately his goal changed, and he surged the other way, hoping he'd be fast enough to stop whatever had caused his niece to cry out.

It seemed as though his tasty treat was keen to flee the scene. Ithrik's heart thrummed faster and he quickly took chase. The silver of her coat was tantalizing to his gaze, and he found it luring him through the brush and brambles that would otherwise impede on his movement. Not even the tearing at his flesh was enough to halt the thirst that he had; the thirst that she would sate if he could latch his rotten teeth to her tender flesh. Fur bristling, the devil chuckled in the back of his throat and released a sickening snarl that echoed against the bark of the nearby trees.

A cry for help was released from the girl's maw. Ithrik found the shrillness of it to be arousing. The first thing he would do is pull her tongue from her throat when he caught her. Inky limbs pulled him closer and closer and his breathing became heavy. The sharpness of his gaze was intent on the prize.

It was the first time in her life that Clover truly could appreciate that she was small. 

Had she been large like her brothers, or even the size of Fiadh, evading might prove to be far more difficult. As it was, it was hard. Clover felt like the rabbits she chased and felt a flash of pity in her heart for how they must feel—but the imaginative Clover tried to think like the wily ones that managed to evade her grasp.

She did not run in a straight line. 

Through the shrubbery she began to zig-zag, slipping in and out of crevices and nooks and crannies left and right. The shivering branches left tell-tale signs of her previous locations, but she did what she could to be unpredictable. Her ears cupped backward to hear him, but it was hard to hear much of anything over her own panicked, labored breathing. 

Clover could only hope that someone had heard her cry. The Caldera was not much further, but who knew how far creepy-man was?

The silvered youth moved with desperate precision through the twisting brush and biting brambles. Ithrik was impressed by her speed and efforts. His prey was frequently prone to attempted escape, but few did so with such vigor. The devil thought this to be one of the true pleasures of hunting the young – they were so unpredictable. He could never express his satisfaction after having caught the frightened little things. The fear in their eyes was remarkable, and it never ceased to catch his breath in his throat.

The thought urged him forward, pressing through difficult shrubbery and terrain in hopes of latching his teeth tightly to her skin and pulling her down. He was certain that if he was not swift enough, she would race back to her pack and the safety within, so the hound urged his muscles to work harder and he drove himself into a frenzied pace in hopes of closing some of the distance that had stretched between himself and his sweet, delicate treat.

He ran faster than he had in a long while, and his heart felt like to burst in his chest from the anxiety of it.  That hadn't been a normal scream; it raised his fur, the pure terror it projected meaning only the worst if he didn't arrive on time.  How could he face himself, or Finley, if he failed?

When he heard the sounds of the chase, he angled to meet them, and the shape of the larger became clear.  Assuming this was the danger that had incited, Colt barreled towards it, intent on stopping it from its assumed deadly intentions.

Clover ran fast and hard, doing all that she could imagine to avoid him. He still was after her, she heard it as the brush broke behind her. Her reservoir of energy was endless, but her legs ached—it was not as though she had trained to run this hard so early in her life, though wolves, fortunately, were endurant. Her top speed could not be maintained for too terribly long, however, and she was flagging—

The sight of her uncle crashing through the brush caused her to release a shaky sob. Clover did not know what to do now; did she stay and fight? She wanted to, now that she had support; in youthful fashion of a being who did not understand mortality, and in the spirit of the blood that ran through her veins, Clover wanted to jump at the opportunity to salvage her wounded pride in being forced to flee as she had. Fortunately, she had some semblance of practicality in her blood too that caused her to recognize she ought to get home, and fast. She had risked enough in straying from home to begin with, and the wolf that chased her did not seem right. The urge to get away kept her limbs moving toward the Caldera, and though she attempted to loose another howl it came out as a strangled cry, her throat constricting with fear.

Ithrik out. <3

Closer and closer the devil loomed; close enough that he could almost taste the shrill beating of her heart against her chest. His teeth were bared, and he lunged wildly for the girl’s hind leg, only to miss her completely and latch himself to a thorn-bristled branch that jutted from the earth. Anger flooded his system as the bristles bit against his lip and tongue. He could taste the metallic tinges of his own blood in his mouth and he snarled with frustration.
 
Just then, Ithrik caught sight of someone in pursuit and he snickered coldly before turning away from the sprinting Colt and disappearing into the brambles once more. The fire in his stomach did not subside and he sought to quell the thirst with a victim from some other place.  

The figure was before him, and Colt was ready to fight, but as suddenly as it was there, it disappeared.  The abrupt departure meant he was lost, and Colt would rather make sure his niece was ok than pursue.  

He followed more slowly, not wanting to catch up and spook her, but close enough that he could track her movement.  He'd call out and approach to check once they were on Redhawk ground.