Haunted Wood Some liar brought the thunder.
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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#1


The days felt shorter than before. He wasn't sure if it was the season's progress that dictated this, or the fact he was existing on more spite than food these days and thus felt clouded by it, but there was often darkness - or at least a greying - to everything he witnessed. The dim light of morning was shrouded in fog or lost to drifting snow; that same light was not warm when it touched him, and it did not last long. Whereas the warmer season had been replete with an almost unyielding warmth the giant found distasteful, Revui did not feel the same for the liminal chill affecting the woods. In fact, he rather liked the cold. The stronger the cold got the more numb he expected to feel, and that was true to some extent, but any energy he expended to cross the swaths of fallen snow or patrol the edge of the Nightwalker territory brought a fire to him that hummed beneath his skin. It made him feel more alive.

He had no reason to linger here, except that aforementioned spite. That and the food stores which he was now privy to, as he wasn't a captive any longer. Revui wasn't sure what role he posed here among the Nightwalkers post-escape, but nobody had come to harass him since the fight. It was entirely possible that the Alpha (that giant dark-coated man he hadn't seen before, or after, the escape attempt) had warned them all away from him. He'd spent the past few days... Alone. Tired. Hungry.

The boy was fully intent on lingering and tearing off the faces of his captors; a flare of vengeful malice coupled with his hunger to make him a disaster on four legs, patrolling the limit of the woods on the off-chance he'd come across one of those beasts. He wasn't interested in defending the territory but in destroying it, and those that dwelled within, and yet they were gone from his sight. Warned away, or ordered to stand down, while his energy levels gradually waned in light of the famine. It was a good tactic against someone like Revui, who had long ago replaced his own self worth with rage.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

sometimes, dead is better
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#2
It took a while, but the Warlord was back to health. His knee no longer bothered him with every step he took, every stride was filled with power once more, just in time for winter to begin its hold on the lands. 

Bee-lining toward the borders where a stink had continued to linger, a scent that now was the time to investigate - that captive had been lingering on their border and no longer would the Warlord ignore his presence. It wasn't often Vengeance ignored visitors on their lands, or walk away from a possible encounter such as this - but he had an idea. Once in awhile the Warlord did think his actions through, it all depended on how much he wanted a certain thing... and how long he had to plot it out.

Would it fall in his favour? Well, we would all soon find out just how clever the Warlord can, or cannot be.

Slithering out from the woods, he stepped into view of the once captive. Silent despite his size, his mind ticking with possibilities. For a moment his maw tasted the air, allowing a plume of white to smoke to caress his maw and vanish along his cheeks, and spoke. I thought you would have been long gone by now. His voice smooth and deep, dark like a bottomless pit. 

Despite the odd calm air about him, he was ready to defend. In the back of his brain, he was aware of how wound up the once captive would be, what might be on his mind... that perhaps talking, was not something he was willing to do. 

But he was also aware that back-up, was only a call away. This was his lands after all. He had the upper hand in this, and he would use all benefits if necessary.
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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#3
For days he had been alone. Waiting. Lurking, more like. Hunting for those that had wronged him. It had been part of his half-baked plan while deep in that pit; to fight for the survival of himself but above all, for Orochi, and to give him time to seek out the wolves of Moonspear. Yet in the days that came after, as his fever for bloodshed and battle burned unchecked within him, there came no reprieve. No word travelled down from the mountain and Revui did not see, hear, or smell any sign of his family. Perhaps the boy had failed in his task? Perhaps he had succeeded, but his family had left him for dead? He did not think long about the why and focused on the when — trusting in Orochi, and in the rage inherent to his family. They would come. Together they would brutalize the beasts of these woods and Revui would be triumphant.

Or so he thought, fuelled so strongly by his rage.

When he was met with another body it was not a guard such as Tzila, or Black Hat, or even the woman that Revui had nearly torn to pieces and devoured on that fateful day; it was the giant, prowling to where the boy lurked as if he had known all along that he was waiting there. Revui stared him down with a glare of unmitigated animosity, bristling as soon as the first whiff of the man's musk hit his nose; it was warm, spiced almost, cutting through the cold.

I thought you would have been long gone by now. Boomed the man's voice, breaking through the sluice of ice and slush that dominated around them both. Revui's stare did not waver—boldly, he pressed in on the man's periphery, striding without hesitation until the last second, not attacking but not backing down either. He doesn't want to speak, he wants to maim, crush bone, tear flesh. Alas, he cannot always get what he wants.

I will kill them. His tone was certain, grim and hollow.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

sometimes, dead is better
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#4
Kill who? He pressed. Luring out more information. The whole pack? If that was the case, their leader stood right before him, would it not be a good idea to flip them all into turmoil and separate the pack by eliminating their leader first? Or did the greyscale man have specific targets in mind?

What he did know for certain is that his target was a Nightwalker, one or more he couldn't be precise; but his choice of words was important. He was determined, and perhaps Vengeance could use that. He liked the fire in this one, that determination, the bloodlust. This man was more of a Nightwalker than most of their members whether he wants to see it or not. 

Who was the target for his rage? Was it his captors? Or perhaps individuals who plagued him throughout his stay? Nevertheless, if he played his cards right, Vengeance might be able to ally himself with this one... use that rage to both their advantages. For now, he kept quiet, only asking the bare minimum to try and urge more information out.
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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#5
Revui grimaces, his teeth flashing yellow against the onslaught of snow that flurries around him. It isn't necessary to prove his prowess to this giant as they have seen him in action, being the creature who came to defend the medicine woman. He cannot help but give that small reminder; the silent commentary poised within his posture: 'You did not break me. I am free, I am angry, I will win.'

The man's question is curt, almost innocent in tone, as if he is oblivious to the very pit which Revui had climbed out of. It was bait. The boy wasn't accustomed to conversation and went for it, huffing a plume of smoke from his snout as he states, The crowned one, the red bitch, the two black curs who came for me. He did not need to remember their names, he had their scents—and a blood lust nobody could quench. Black Hat; Alison; Serem and Tzila. Yes, the pack. I could add you to the list, he drawls next, side-stepping closer, as if he might begin to circle this man and let his hunger take over all sense.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

sometimes, dead is better
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#6
The crowned one. And it clicked. Black Hat was one of them. The red bitch could only be Alison, black curs - those he could not be certain of other than perhaps Serem and Tzila, being the black individuals within the pack. Now was for him to chose his words carefully should he try to use this anger to his advantage. As Revui side-stepped closer, Vengeance simply turned enough to keep them face to face, he neither moved forward or back, instead, he stood his ground and refused to allow himself to be blindsided again. 

Remember, you were the one who trespassed. We were only doing what's natural to a wolf. he pointed out the obvious. Many packs would kill you on the spot, we did not. Our healer even took time with you. Their healer, his Consort. Though he could not protect them all from this man's wrath, they would have to do most of the work themselves in whatever way they deemed fit, he would do his best to narrow down his target. 

We can do much more by cooperating rather than seeing us all as enemies, but if you are keen on making an enemy of me, by all means. The crowned one has been a thorn in my side for much longer than I would like, we already have a common target. He didn't trust Black Hat. The man had a way with words to try and swindle the way the world saw about him, Vengeance didn't like that now as much as he did at first. It was of no use to him for Black Hat to use that silver tongue for his own benefits rather than that of the pack, to step on the toes of the General and Warlord, and whatever else he was doing in the background.
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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#7
The sole drawback of hunger was obvious: the lack of energy accompanying it. Revui had recovered in the pit to some extent, he could support himself on his previously broken leg, but his sides had been stripped of fat. His overall bulk had suffered and now his muscle tone was beginning to strip away; he wasn't strong enough to take on an entire pack—probably not strong enough to take this single man on either—but he still held that desire for bloodshed. Retribution could come in many forms.

The man spoke of the crowned one, earning a deeper scowl from Revui. The fact he had not been driven away by the other wolf was evidence enough that something else was brewing here, but that was the extent of Revui's own understanding—he was not bright, he was not a thinker or a schemer, but a blunt instrument. We already have a common target. The man says, and Revui's drifting steps pause; his eyes narrow as if in consideration.

This was one of those moments where words trumped teeth; he did not want to stand here and waste time or air, but he thought of Moonspear and the chance of being rescued, and thought of Hydra, of what she might do in this moment. A deal? Perhaps it was in his best interest. What do you.. propose. Revui was owed blood, he felt vindicated, and would not leave without it.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

sometimes, dead is better
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#8
Ruby eyes scanned the gargoyle carefully, waiting for any signs of further aggression, any signs that there might be the need to go on the defensive, or offensive - depending on the situation should it arise. He was careful... newly healed, he had to be more careful about how he approached certain situations as to not be out of commission for as long as he was previously. Every step Revuit took around, Vengeance followed. Staying at the same distance, but shadowing his presence, remaining face to face. 

It seemed his words had come into contact with some neurons. The man pondered what was offered and the desire to make Vengeance a new target seemed to have been forgotten for now. But there was a bump in the path. Nightwalkers couldn't put up jobs against another Nightwalker. It was against his laws, the laws that he had made himself. Yes, as Warlord he could bend the rules in his favour, make an exception for himself - but that would create chaos among the ranks. He had to be careful... think for once. 

Stay with us for now. There is a famine after all. I will remove your captive title and award you as Soldier, you have proven more than capable. Among us... you can do as you please. I don't trifle with a member on member drama. That would be his loophole. Setting Revui loose among the ranks. Let Black Hat deal with what would come. However, he could only hope that he would forget about everyone else mentioned... perhaps if he targetted Black Hat first even with the intentions of moving onward, the others would be alerted and be on guard to protect themselves...
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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#9
There was a quality to the man that reminded Revui all the more of his own family; of Hydra, but mostly it was Charon that came to mind. The stern and serious manner of someone who trusted in their own power. A sense of self-assured arrogance, perhaps. The giant watched him like a patient bear while Revui, unable to stand still for long, drifted around him—although his own malice appeared to be contained for now, satisfied by the words the man spoke. This deal would suit Revui well enough; he could eat his fill, get strong, and would be welcome to pursue his targets, from what he gathered.

Yet such a deal did not fit with the feeling of a pack; what sort of leader would allow such danger? What if this was a trick? Revui could not fathom how this moment could be manipulated, how he could be used to whatever malevolent ends Vengeance had in mind, but he held doubt. Along with that doubt was his own sense of power, though, that arrogance bred in to the wolves of Moonspear—he trusted in himself and his own abilities, having bolstered his already massive ego with his escape from the pit. There was much to think about. Thankfully, Revui did not waste his time with such things.

And when I rip their throats out, what then? He states, as if it is a certainty. Will he be punished—taken back to the pit? The look in his eyes remains: a sense of daring, a challenge. Revui would die a warrior's death if it came down to it, he would never enter that pit again.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

sometimes, dead is better
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#10
Perhaps what he was doing was a bad idea. It could very well backfire on him in the long run, cost him more than it is worth. But he couldn't ignore the thrill this gave him. To feed everyone a certain feeling of dread, to fight one another for titles, power, and survival. He had no real case to put against the thorny gangly man Black Hat, due to him constantly talking his way out of things... but perhaps, he could do something else just as malicious as the day they first met. Instead of feasting on his bones, maybe this would take him down a notch. 

Then it is their own damn faults for not protecting themselves. We are a pack of mercenaries after all. And they all seemed to have been getting a little too comfortable, especially around the Warlord himself. Some seemed to think he could be a friend, or won over by friendship, kinship, and love. No. He was selfish after all. Powerhungry. He would exercise his power and protect it among the sharks he had following him, some were more loyal than others, and he would keep an eye on them closely to try and stave off the gargoyle's wrath. Perhaps you will like it here more than you think.

Maybe give the other members more of a chance to redeem themselves from his wrath... if not, he would deal with it when the time comes. One thing at a time.
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
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#11
They were of the same mind, which struck a silent chord in Revui. If this man's people fell to the boy's teeth, it was their own fault. If they couldn't handle his strength, his tenacity, or the fact that he would not stop until he destroyed them, it was because they were weak. No pack could survive with such weakness; by living among them, Revui would be doing them a service by cutting out the bad blood as one might cut away at cancer. If it meant he would have free reign of the caches and thus survive the winter, that was all the better for him. There was no downside here as far as Revui could tell.

Fine. He states just as flatly as before. No enthusiasm, just an icy chill and sense of entitlement. His gaze finally drifted away from the older man's face; the steel there remained, the loathing, the hunger, but he no longer directed it at this man. Then I'll stay.

With nothing else to discuss, Revui began to march again, and this time he would disregard Vengeance—moving deeper in the wood to prowl for something warm to eat, whether that be a fresh rat or a wolf didn't much matter.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

sometimes, dead is better
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#12
To his surprise, despite the neutral expression he held for the time being, everything had worked out in his favour. For now. Only time would tell should this whole plot backfire and show just how ill-brained Vengeance truly was. The flatness of Revui's response continued, but he accepted the offer. It was when the gargoyle turned to enter the Haunted Woods again, this time as a Soldier and not as a Captive, that Vengeance grinned a toothy smile. Sharp in it's yellowing glory, he felt a mild victory after this little meeting. 

Once alone again, he himself made it back into the woods, on his own path as to not cross Revui again. Not for a while at least. He would let the new shark acclimate to his new waters before being bothered again by the Warlord. If he was lucky, all would continue to work in his favor and cancer he had allowed in on sweet words would be dealt with, along with anyone else who wasn't fit for Nightwalkers.

With a flick of his tail, he disappeared into the woods once more. With one less burden at his borders, and a rabid dog in his ranks. Things should get interesting very soon.