Way of the Wind, For Crim and Triv

[E'doa A'nii]

It was a warm summer day, with the sun high in the sky and a gentle breeze blowing across the vast fields of the island of Rith. Gentle sun beams fell down to earth and caressed it as the wind played in the grass. Somewhere in the center of the vast field, stirred a brown blob. It grunted and stretched and eventually sat up.

Sleepy yellow eyes glinted gold in the reflected sunlight. The contrast was made all the more apparent by the deep brown muck which was caked onto her skin, making her look more like a tribal warrior from africa then a member of the Rith tribe. All around her was peace and quiet. It was so very still. The grass ripled like a sea under the gentle breath of wind. Man was miles from here. Birds tweeted silently and a group of rabbits nibbled some leafy green herbs in the distance.

The Rith rolled over on her back and stared up at the sky, watching the thin fluffly clouds float along. Freedom, peace and quiet. What more could she ask for other then a pack of her own and a steady supply of food?

[Trivia]

Another day had risen. Amiel sighed as she rolled over and glanced back at Master. He still looked ill, sickly, disgusting. There was not one withered inch of him that looked even remotely strong enough for her to be calling him Master, but judging such things had never been left to the demur shifter, a fact for which she was as grateful as was possible. Or she would be if she recognized the fact. Another sigh grew from the first as she glanced up at the warm sky and felt a stirring in her gut. Another day had risen and she'd slept right through half of it. Listening to the whistle of his exhalations, it seemed Master had as well. No matter. Master was entitled to whatever he took. Whatever he took.

So easy to reach over with long fingers. To close them about that pale grey neck. So easy to squeeze the windpipe closed. Amiel could already feel the crunching cartilage within her clenched fists, but the anger at Master's weakness passed. He was, after all, not getting any worse.

Blinking slowly in the harsh sunlight, the young woman pulled herself onto her hands and knees and stretched into a new shape, shaking her fur so it settled neatly against her skin. This was a form she knew well, though few creatures of its like remained in existence and her current master was the only one to have ever seen it. The tarnished smell of him floating to her nostrils proved he didn't deserve the honour, but... Master deserved everything and nothing of hers was honourable.

Shivers trickled down her spine and the long mane of black fur ruffled against her mottled, short-furred sides. Turning away from Master, Amiel slunk from the farm's edge where they'd taken shelter the night past, stilt-like legs holding her skinny frame well above the waving grasses. Muscles slid beneath the smooth hide, wiry, taut. Her ribs striped gaunt shadows down her sides and her joints, elbows and knees, seemed to balloon outward like tumours within her strangely graceful limbs. A long tail swished behind her, its white tuft whispering against gold and green. Flat palms touched the ground with each step, elegant, tapered, extra-jointed fingers softened her footfalls and left gouges clawed into the gently sloped earth behind her.

Casting about, Amiel lifted her triangular muzzle in the wispy air. Grass assailed her sense of smell. New grass. Old grass. Dry grass. Dead grass. Crushed grass. Wet grass. Cut grass. She sank deeper into the current of scents and a panting smile revealed glinting fangs and sharp tongue. The perfect meal was hopping its own way through the grass just on the other side of the field, long ears wavering at each new gusting breeze.

Another scent lingered nearby. Mud and cat and other. Her massive green eyes squinting into the glare, Amiel watched the subtle movement as the Rith sprawled in the grass, but paid it no other mind than to give the female a wide berth as she made her careful, quiet way towards the rabbits.

((This could be done or not, up to whoever replies next. And I do hope my mentions of both characters are alright... Fine, even ))

[E'doa A'nii]

(ok I'm going to go ahead and respond again. And then Crim can come in and write something, if she likes.)

The Rith sat up again hearing the swish of motion through the high grass. She peered up, her ears just above the swaying tips of the highest blades; golden eyes glinting in the sunlight.

What a strange creature walked the landscape. It was almost dog-like in appearance, with a soft round muzzel in a long slender face and a big long black mane that seemed to bury it's slender whip like body under a mass of hair. Only a bit of the body remained showing. Just enough to show a long thin tail, which might have been the other half of the body, if the Rith hadn't had such good eyesight... or known creature kind so well.

She, the creature, was mottled in shades of black, grey and white looking much like a shadow on a mottled forest floor. Her disproportioantely long, spindly legs seemed to float her along atop the grass like a ship on the sea.

The Rith was fascinated by the creature; she had never seen anything like it before. To call out was useless. Animals ignored the she-cat. She might as well have not existed. In addition, the strange wolf-creature was down wind, so there was no way of catching her scent... or using that as a clue.

Was she magical? The cat woman had to admit, she was hungry. It wouldn't be such a bad idea to keep an eye out and see...

[Trivia]

((Teehee, you’re pretty close in your description of the creature, but some things were off. I whipped up a quick drawing of her and posted it in her character form if you wanna take a look. ))

The thing watching her was filthy. Too dirty to be entirely animal in nature. Amiel swung her long neck around to look again as she paused on her way to breakfast. Hmm, yes. Worse than a pig. Swaying as though the breeze shook her slim form, the shifter cast a brief glance back to where Master lay, still, it seemed, sleeping and unawares. He was invisible in the tall grass. Whatever the thing was…she? It would not know of Master. Could not harm what it did not know.

She began walking again, the sighing wind camouflaging what little noise she made. The rabbits were hiding already, or sitting still until she came too close. That was the way of them. They’d be back out soon though. That was the way of them. In this form it did not matter, running down a rabbit, as fast and as agile as they were, was not a viable option.

Nose to the ground, Amiel padded closer to one of the burrows. The bitter scent of the warren rose unhindered and with a light snort, the large creature stretched out behind it. Out of sight and down wind, most of her body hidden by the thick grass, her long, spindly arms outstretched on either side of the hole. Perfectly still, she lay as a statue, green eyes trained unflinchingly on the dark circle in the ground for a finger-width of time, the sun’s own movement hardly noticeable before a whiskered nose peered out.

Amiel remained still, her breathing shallow, quiet as she waited for the young rabbit to emerge fully from the burrow. It would do her no good to scare the doomed thing now. One more hop… Long fingers closed tightly about the small animal’s neck and twisted sharply before it even had time to worry. Amiel stood fluidly and sniffed at the twitching corpse. The sour tinge of urine made her sneeze before she plucked it from the ground and loped back across the meadow to where Master was. That part of the burrow would be useless for hunting now, the other rabbits would smell the death.

Laying the dead rabbit on the ground quietly, she nosed it, watching in some small fascination as it rolled fluidly from her touch and then back again. Almost alive in its reactions. She did not once look to Master. Sophisticated as this beast was, there were certain instincts that demanded answer. In his current state, Master was too weak to survive as she did. He ought to have been abandoned, left to the crows and the ravens and their happy plucking of eyeballs. All the same, this first rabbit was his. Amiel spun around and made her way back to the hole. She’d find another from there.

This time, as she passed the muddy creature and swung her head around to face it, Her lips writhed upward in a silent snarl revealing large teeth, sharp and predatory. She may have been fine-boned, but even hidden as the thing was, it could be no match to her and Master was hers. He was not to be harmed.

She’d been a protector before, countless times, but the irony never ceased being confusing. It was impossible to understand that one who held her very life in his hands could need her protection. Master was god, was perfection, was…everything, and yet he needed a slave, a nobody, a nothing, an empty body and withered soul to offer protection. Every second that passed, Amiel knew herself further in Master’s debt. He gave her such simple tasks. Simple enough that they had no need for words. She had done nothing to repay him for forcing her to live. She should kill him.

Snap his neck and watch him twitch like the rabbit. A mercy. To who? Amiel shook that thought free and kept walking. Master was breaking walls that bled within her. A headache rode her shoulders from the pressure of a thousand lifetimes of repression and the sharp thorns she’d grown around that graveyard of memory. It was not so easy to shake.

Amiel found the second hole and by the time the sun had moved another finger’s width across the sky, a half hour since she’d first left her master’s side, two rabbits had succumbed to her. She carried their flopping remains in her mouth, their long legs dangling beneath her chin. Upon reaching Master, she let them fall where the first one was and sat next to them, waiting for Master’s orders.

[E'doa A'nii]

(oops.>_< That's a really cool picture! XD I'll fix my description.)

---

The Rith watched the rabbit hunting in fascination. Hunting was a skill. Animal worth practically hinged on that skill alone; for survival was impossible without food. Apparently the strange, elegant creature ate rabbits. She was very good at what she did; patient, silent, invisible.

The she-cat couldn't help but feel a little jealous. For not being a good hunter she had lost her place. But then... her prey was much different then rabbits, and yet she hunted animals too. She was terrible at hunting both man and beast. A fact which irked more then she could say, and which had cost her much.

At this moment she had not caught one magician in quite a number of months. She had not caught so much as a rabbit. The cat woman had half a mind to go over and ask for pointers; but there was no point in debasing oneself.

She watched the strange Pointer-like creature lope back to a certain spot on the ground and leave the rabbit. Did she have cubs? A burrow? What was so important about that specific spot. Curiosity practically compelled the she-cat to wander over and look. But the Rith new better than to cross paths with an unknown enemy.

No point in getting herself killed. Curiosity had a way of multiplying the odds of death... especially for cats.

And it was at this moment that her astute hiding skills gave her away again. Dummy! She should have known that one is to hide down wind Obviously the thing had seen her. It even made such a show as to snarl.

The Rith's reaction to that was instant. Her eyes turned to golden slits as she snarled right back, layed her ears flat, arched her tail and bristled it. (Or rather, tried to bristled her tail; it was so caked with mud that she might as well have not tried) Ok, so she wasn't a good fighter. But she wasn't going to take that lying down; she most certainly wasn't going to give the neck or belly and submit either.

Not happening.

She was probably in this thing's territory, but that was ok. It wasn't like she was hurting anything. But then, she didn't know how territorial this thing was either. She hoped it wasn't too much so. The she-cat wasn't exactly up to par; though she had to admit her meager skills had gotten a teensy bit better from a great deal of forced practice. And her time at the farm had been a boon to building her muscles; so she might have a slight chance.

She hoped.

Apparently and rather irksomely, yet simultaneously relieving, the creature didn't think her worth bothering about because she went on her way and came back with two more rabbits, which she carried to that same spot.

But she did not eat them. She just sat there. So either she had cubs, or she had just gone hunting for the fun of it. But the rabbits didn't seam to be complaining over much, down there at the rabbit hole. They carried on like normal. So, maybe she did have cubs. Animals could always tell when hunting was for sport, and when it was for food.

The she cat wasn't dumb enough to approach a mother and cubs; especially not after bristling up in such a defiant manner. But she did want a look. So the muddy she-cat got up and stretched again, this time on her belly extending her limbs as far out as they would go and trying to touch her head with the tip of her tail.

This having been done, she set about doing what she did best. Showing up with all the trumpets blaring her arrival. She began by approaching upwind, and trying to keep herself in front of the creature so as not to be taken as an attack. She kept her tail up with a friendly hook on the end, and her ears pointing forward. Well, one ear made it forward. The other one was still turned away because she was a bit wary of the thing.

But she did try to be friendly.

[xvcrimsajadevx]

(I'll let Amiel react to the Rith since somehow I don't see Seeth taking note of her just yet )

Some time between the shifter’s deliverance of the first rabbit and her return with the other two Seeth had awakened, his golden snake-slitted eyes snapping opening with such a start and he body curling in on itself as his stomach attempted to spill what little contents it had left. It had been another night of ghosts and visions, and so it would be another morning spent yearning for death; the twisting images formulated both by his memories and his curse continuing to churn and fester in the forefront of his mind though he had entered the conscious realm. His dreams were getting worse, much worse. So much in fact it was surprising the stress alone had not yet stopped his withered heart.

“Why don’t yous just take messs?” he snarled to the cloud of Darkness that was ever looming in his thoughts, “Just takes what’s left of my tattered souls and be done with itss!” And even as he spoke he drew the obsidian dagger from it’s holster strapped beneath his left sleeve and prepared to plug the blackened thing deep into his wasted chest. As always though some unknown force stayed his blade and so he was forced to lay there, doubled over atop himself writhing in the agony of his guilted shame. Why do I continue to lives…

*Thu-thump*

A gentle stirring in his surroundings brought him to the realization that there was another in his presence. The obsidian elf brought his face up - a hard, craggy visage appearing to have the consistency of boiled leather that when combined with his gold-slitted eyes, the sibilant lit of his voice, and the long slight of his emaciated form left little to the imagination as to why he’d once been dubbed the Snake of Men’Zonine Manor - to find the form of an equally slight, though much more graceful creature who’s species name he had yet to recall.

“Amielsss…” he said, a smile almost making it across his chapped, thin lips as he started up at her, and after some time finally sat up himself. A chill suddenly took him though, for in the absence of true camping equipment he had gotten used to using the fur of Amiel’s great beasts to keep him warm. He rearranged his dark green sorcerer’s robes around himself – tattered, torn cut and ripped and caked mostly in his own blood – and pulled his cowl in tighter around his face so she was not forced to look upon his repulsive facade.

Ignoring the rabbits for now he looked up at her, waving her over to him as he said, “Come here, my dearsss… I am colds and in needsss of your warmthss.”

[Trivia]

The moment those startling eyes settled on Amiel, all thoughts of murder and Master's weakness fled beyond the natural concern she felt. If he should die... Abandoned once more, alone, apart. Amiel's mind was a shattered swirl of bits and parts. Memories that were deemed useful, what Masters enjoyed, what they despised, shivering by herself on the cold cobbles of a city street, rain washing away the fading image of Master walking away. Abandonment was the one thing for which the Masters never received her forgiveness. After all, they were no longer her master once they disappeared. Without her, they were no better than the miserable people who trudged those same streets. The only difference between her and them... She recognized Master whenever he came around and knew that he might spell the end of the world if he so chose.

Seeth was Master. Weakness made him cower in the brilliant sun, shivering even in the midday heat, but power swam in his veins. Absolute power. He held her life in his shaking hands. Should she falter, in any way, that much more might spill from his fingers. Death offered a blessed emptiness, a removal of pain as what remained of her soul was shredded into nothing, but that was Master's choice, not hers. She could never leave Master. Never.

And her name on his tongue... The name he had allowed her to choose for herself... A shiver of ecstasy startled the hair along her spine, but she remained still, eyes cast don in respect even as he slight admonishment floated through his mind. "Master is sick." Every morning she waited for him to get better and every night she tried to force him inside. He was a poor listener, as is Master's right.

Flowing forward, Amiel's shape rippled into that of a massive wolf, fur black and matted, eyes as green as spring grass. Stretched teats hung low beneath her belly as though many pups had been and gone in her past. One of her paws could easily have crushed Seeth's skull with a misplaced step were he still lying down, but the shifter moved with such caution and care to wrap her body about Master. Breakfast, it seemed, could wait.

About to settle her heavy frame onto the ground, Amiel froze and her fangs were bared in a second snarl directed at the poor, filthy Rith. The warning growl she voiced, rumbled through Master and ground alike. It was not her place to choose Master's company, nor had it truly been hers to warn the approaching creature against harming her master, but Amiel had been with Seeth long enough to know him. To know that he required mothering and did not beat her for making her own decisions when she thought of them.

She remained wrapped about Seeth, but her muscles were taut. A word from him, a wrong move by the cat-lady... The rabbits had died by her hand, but Amiel had yet to taste blood this day and she was not picky about whose.

[E'doa A'nii]

The Rith almost leapt back as she saw Seethe. She hadn't expected Amiel's companion to be so... large. She couldn't see his face, but his whining voice gave the indication of a cub. Still, he was too big to be the cub of such a small slender creature, as the one that now moved to wrap itself about him. --The Rith blinked. That was no snake-dog-with-legs! That was a goodly sized mountain wolf with fangs. Had she lost her previous target?---

He could not be an older member, because such good care to the aged was never given. Well, not in the animal world anyway. The old, the sick, the lame... all were left to the ravages of weather, time and other animals. Those who survived, survived. Perhaps they got better, stronger. Those who died...well their time was up.

At anyrate, the she-wolf noticed her. That big ugly thing was evidently pretty old itself, as evidenced by the shriveled sagging of the mammary glands around her stomach. The massive beast snarled and crouched. The Rith made a great show of not paying attention. A dangerous game to play indeed. The she-cat barely flicked her second ear back, and kept right on comming. She sat down indian style, very casually, not more then ten feet away from Amiel and Seeth. Her tail waved about very gently in the breeze. Not concerned at all. And trying hard not to be internally.

The oddly colored she-wolf could deal with that as she liked. The cat woman was close enough to smell the hint of the vast amount of magic which flowed through the Snake of Men'Zonine's vains. The sick-sweet musty smell of magic hung about the blood elf like a cloud. He had to have much magic, indeed, for her to be able to smell it so far away, and up wind of all places.

The she-cat was not going anywhere. Not at all. No one made her do anything. Not without much beating and coercion anyway. The Rith had enough tenacity and persistence of will to last four men of equal or smaller size; even if her skills as a hunter and fighter were lacking. Such hardness of head and stubborness of heart had gotten her to quite a few scrapes.--as evidenced by the fact that, having lost sight of her original quarry, she was reduced to playing russian roulet with a she-wolf twice as big as she-- She was her own woman.

Most of her life anyway... except when someone stronger and meaner came along. Then she was forced to obey. Obedience was always grudging, always minimal. The Rith had yet to find someone she truly wanted to work for; muchless enjoyed working for. Today, of all days, at that particular moment she did not feel like going anywhere. Especially not with all that delicious magic so tantalizingly close.

If Amiel wanted her to go away, she should make her go away. Otherwise, the she-cat was going to sit there and envision a meal she was smart enough not to attempt to reach. My! He smelled good.

It was an effort to sit still and look. Maybe he would move? Whatever he was, he was incredibly easy to sneak up on. --much like a human--If it hadn't been for Amiel the Rith probably could have taken him right there.

[xvcrimsajadevx]

((Sorry for the long wait. Little one's going through some major growth development and becoming more demanding for my time... and torment ))

Guffawing amusedly at the shifters words his mouth made another failed attempt at a smile. “No my dears,” Seeth said in his snake-like lit, though there was a guttural rasp to it that seemed to indicate damage to his throat and tongue was likely the cause true cause to his speech impediment. “Not sicks. Sicknesses can be cureds. My ailment… this rots that ails me… cannots.”

He held one hand out as she grew near, allowing it to glide across her matted fur as she wrapped her canine body around his slender form. She truly was an amazing creature; it was too bad she could not see her own worth. He was about to settle against her, to take comfort again in her illustrious warmth, but the low rumble that escaped her brought his attention to the fact that he had dropped his guard for far too long and had quite possibly allowed danger to stalk its way far to near.

Seeth uttered a silent curse, shooting up onto his feet and turning to face the intruder head on. Gone was the meek and helpless front that met prying only moments before. The dark elf was reaching beyond himself now; drawing upon the forces where his true strength lay and prepared himself for whatever lurked among the grasses and what emerged was no small matter.

Humanoid but for the cat-like ears and tail, the Rith stood over a half foot taller than he, bolstering a physic that could easily snap his seemingly frail frame in two if he allowed her near enough to do so. The dirt, mud and grass that covered her from head to toe seemed to indicate a more uncultivated existence, a theory only supported by the ragtag cloths she wore and the feral glint that shone in her eyes. There was a measure of stubbornness to her as well, for though she seemed to act like she was unconcerned, her casual sit and nonchalant flick of the tail, the Rith seemed to watch them both like a hawk watches a mouse despite Amiel’s persistent warning.

Seeth reached over, placing a gentle hand upon the shifter’s shoulder in hopes that he might calm her, but he too was unnerved by the Rith’s appearance and so did little to calm Amiel completely. “Come, my dears…” he said at last, his eyes having momentarily glided to the rabbits at his feet and giving him reason to believe the Rith just might be a scavenger. At this point though Seeth was still trying to recover from his past injuries, and his refusal to see Amiel injured if she decided to attack made him more then willing to concede this meal. “We will finds somethingss else to hunts.”

Giving the shifter’s shoulder a gentle nudge, Seeth began to turn slowly, cautiously, away from the seated Rith though his eyes had yet to leave her completely…

[Trivia]

"You should sleep inside then, Master. Too cold out here for the sick." It was one of the few points she allowed herself to argue back. Her life depended on Master surviving and, though her life was unimportant in any scheme, Master mustn't be allowed to perish. Ever. He was the soul of her world.

The Rith's response to her growl left her angry and stunned, enough so that she remained where she stood, ears pinned back against her large skull, ruffled hackles settling down in something akin to confusion. She was used to being ignored by Master. Master didn't want to see her in her other lives. And generally, those beneath Master followed suit. Amiel was used to being invisible, to being shunned, turned aside... But not when she was easily twice the size of the creature she threatened. Bravado, surely. An answering baring of the teeth. Or cowardice. A flayed whimper and scamper into the tall grasses.

About to step forward and press her point home, Amiel stilled instantly beneath Seeth's gentle hand. He was hardly calm. She could almost feel his nerves tingling with life and concern, but i was obviously what he wanted of her. Her haughty tail relaxed and her ears perked forward, but she did not take her eyes off of the Rith and, standing tall, she was sure to show just how large she was. The wolf stood shoulder to shoulder with Seeth who was not a small man. Scrawny, yes, but not unduly short.

The Rith did not appear to be carrying any weapons amidst all that dirt. A fight between them would be short. But only if Master willed it, or the thing drew nearer.

Master nudged her shoulder, clearly wanting her to turn even as he did so himself. Amiel stood a moment too long for her sanity, pushing back against obedience. Those rabbits were Master's, he should not give them up so easily. And him being sick and all. It had been a long night, he needed the food. He could not hunt and with this new threat in appearance, Amiel was not sure she could countenance leaving him by himself.

A quick, shifting glance towards Seeth, then she bent her head to the rabbits, scooping up two of the corpses in her mouth. It would mean a second longer to react to any attack the Rith might offer, but since she was seated already, Amiel took the risk and turned to follow Master with one last, muffled growl.

((Blech... definitely not my best, sorry guys... uni's getting to my brain))

[E'doa A'nii]

As soon as Seethe noticed her, the smell of magic about him increased to almost nauseating proportions. The blood elf was brimming with power. He more then reaked with it. He might as well have been magic. The Rith couldn't believe her good fortune. What a catch he would make! Such a being would last for months before he burned out.

What were the odds?

The hungry look deepened in the she-cat's eyes. She would have him. Something else changed in her demeanor as well: The magician was afraid. Infact, he was downright terrified. The tangy scent of fear, as strong as it was, could only barely taint the rich scent of magic which overwhelmed the air. But it was there all the same. The scent of his fear sustained her courage; fed her perseverance.

The fight to stay calm internally was not so hard.

Apparently her choice of behavior had put the she-wolf in it's place too. The beast, for all it's power and might, seemed quite puzzled as to how to deal with the situation. Odd, a beast with so much age would surely have more then enough experience to know how to handle such a situation... or they usually did. Of course, there were slow learners too. Even in the animal kingdom.

For a moment it looked as if Amiel was about to sit down and ponder the situation. The massive beast dipped her hind quarters in an indecisive half-crouch. A disturbing vacillation between attacking and sitting that caused the she-cat to hold her breath for a moment.

But only a moment.

Seethe had his hand in her fur coat, and the shaggy wolf grabbed her rabbits and trailed along. Apparently, the she-wolf was not in charge. Whatever that...thing was, he was pack leader. And as pack leader, he was not very brave. Strange. He seemed human. Almost. He was so similar, and yet, so different. But he behaved like them: Cowardly, weak. Odd that he should be over one as the she-wolf. Unless, Amiel had been 'caught.' That was the right term, yes?

Seethe had not quite begun to walk off yet. He was in the beginning stages of gnawing terror. He would turn slowly, as he was, and then break into a full fledged run. Either that or he would summon that vast power of his and turn her into ashes.

The she-cat did not move at first. If she jumped him now, the blood elf would strike. He was too indicisive, and pushing him would just make his decision for him. No, fear would do it's work. The more one thinks about something, the more afraid one becomes. The more afraid one becomes the less likely on eis to do anything about the situation. Fear has a paralyzing effect, and the Rith knew the value of that effect.

But effects take time.

In the meantime they had been so very kind as to leave her a token of their submission in the hopes that she would leave them alone. So with out over much hurry, she approached the remaining rabbit and inspected it. One grimy hand with long jagged claw-like nails burried itself into the fur of the fluffy white rabbit and elevated it up to her nose.

She sniffed it.

The musty-warm scent of bloody fresh rabbit filled her nostrils. Yup. Healthy. She could probably sell the meat for a goodly price. She flopped the thing on the ground and poked it with a finger or two, in various places. The fur was in good condition and the rabbit had no hardness of belly. Finished with her inspection she gave a grunt of satisfaction.

The tribute had been accepted.

For now, anyway.

Now having any way to sell the meat at the moment, the Rith simply picked up the rabbit and tied it's ears into a knot about her wrist. THe knot was loose enough so that the rabbit would slip off if she wished it too, yet tight enough that it wouldnot fall off of it's own accord.

She would skin it later.

[xvcrimsajadevx]

The dark elf’s eyes never left the creature for very long; not while Amiel leaned in to grab the rabbits, and certainly not while he withdrew himself out toward the nearest hillside. Something about the voracity in those golden eyes made his skin to crawl (a feet in and of itself when one considered his familiarity with death) and so it was not until he was some distance away, and the Rith had begun inspecting the rabbit they’d left behind, that Seeth shifted his focus from the Rith and concentrated more on his escape…

Wait… Escape?

Well, that’s what it most certainly felt like though he knew not why. Any recollection he might have had of such creature were long buried; hidden deep beneath a deathly fog composed of magic and onyx tea, and likely ravished by the passage of time. Not for the first time in his long life did Seeth realize how impudent he truly was, and it was fact that put as much emphasis on finding what he needed to recover his lost memories as it did on making sure they all stayed hidden forever. Already he’d caught glimpses from at least one of his past ‘lives’… He could only guess what other visions he had buried there.

“Amiels,” he hissed, taking one final glance over his shoulder to be sure they weren’t being followed, “I needs a horse… A fast onesss.” Something nagged at the back of his mind… A distant memory or something he just couldn’t ignore, and so the sooner they got away from the Rith’s territory, the better. “Will you carry me, my dears? Carry me as far as you can goes?” Though Seeth knew what the answer was likely to be, the dark elf could not help but ask his companion anyways.

[Trivia]

Out of sight and out of mind was Amiel's general outlook on life, it left things simple, kept them two dimensional and easy to understand. The Rith though, she demanded attention! It was not so much her rude behaviour, strutting right up without so much as a by-your-leave, watching them walk away with only a slight smirk on her face. No, it was the way she'd eyed Master. There'd been a predatorial glitter in those eyes, calculating and possessive. Amiel knew the only way to be rid of it would be to pry the creature's eyeballs from within their snug sockets. And how she wanted to be rid of it. Seeth, though, had other plans. He was weak, he was scared and he was leaving.

Amiel knew, without the slightest doubt in her heart that had he needed to, the Rith would be little more than ashes on the wind, teasing her nostrils and forcing her to sneeze. He was Master after all. All Masters held the world in their hands. And a dark, shadowed world it was, filled with ignorant people and misuse of power. She closed her green eyes against that thought, shut it out as instinct should have done. Thought was for Master only. He was to lead her through life as he did now, hand on her shoulder, gentle now, peaceful, immaculate and redolent with grace. Seeth would never be able to comprehend the enormity of his gift, the gratitude she felt. His hand against he skin, resting there. No brutality, no rape, no degradation or pain. She owed him everything and still, he gave.

Seeth was ignorant in his mindset that he took too much of her. Asked what was not his to ask. He was beginning to know her mind, its vast emptiness. Beginning to understand just how much she needed him.He gave her a purpose in life that could not be had elsewhere. He gave to her everything he believed he stole.

The irony was lost on them both.

The moment Seeth stopped, so too did Amiel, glancing back in unison with her master, pleased to see that the Rith had not approached much closer, annoyed that she'd so eagerly taken her Master's rabbit. These things...emotions. They were taking too long. It had been easier without them. Easier when they'd been relegated to the graveyard and its sordid collection of turgid morbidity. Now, her backwards glance forced thought and not action. Master, in his endless kindness, was destroying her perfect, pain-filled world, where she'd been living for millennia. Thought and feelings hurt her more than anything she'd ever experienced before. Everything that was buried behind a crumbling wall for the sake of her loose hold on sanity.

Everything was going to escape.

But for now, it was Master who wished to escape beyond the golden, avid gaze of that cat thing. Without another thought, she tossed the dead rabbits at Seeth's feet and shrank, pulling herself in tighter and squeezed between his legs, filling out as she did so, growing once more until Master rested, rather like an ungainly sack of coal, upon her broad back. His broad, plain brown back. Once again, turning to look at the female who had invaded their well-earned privacy, Amry arched his stallion's neck and pawed the ground in challenge. She was not to follow. He would kill her without those pesky emotions if she continued to present a threat to Seeth. Hesitation would not happen again.

Ears perking up as he spun away and began running, Amry stayed as smooth as possible. "If it suits Master, he may hold onto my mane." Because if Seeth fell now, Amry was liable to trample him in his frustration.

[E'doa A'nii]

Just because the Rith looked busy did not mean that she was not paying attention to her quarry. As Amiel became Amry, the Rith literally gaped in astonishment. So that explained it then.

She had not been expecting that. Still it explained a lot. Like why she had originally 'lost' her first prey. For a moment she stood still as Amry increased the distance between the Rith and the blood elf. But only for a moment. She realized that her quarry was escaping her, and a surge of urgency rushed adrenaline into her veins. Impetuosity sometimes breeds quick thinking, and the Rith lost only a moment in deciding what to do.

She had worked to hard, for too much to let such a valuable prize get away.

With a snarl and a step, she was ontop of the hill. Teleporting took some effort. Especially since, she had not eaten in quite some time. But the distance was less now; halved. THe Rith could see Amry again, some distance to the east. THe thrill of the hunt filled the she-cat with adrenaline and glee; ecstacy of the chase, the feelings of power and strength, the thrill and satisfaction of sucess.

Without even realizing it, she was running down the hill, swift strides and long legs enabling her to match pace with the horse. She could not pass Amry of course. But she could keep the distance from becomming less. Running was the cat woman's main strength, and the one saving grace which had kept her in her pack for so long. She was the fastest runner; the most agile of foot. When the time was right, she would teleport again. They were close enough that she should be able to reach them if she did so. But they would have to stop first.

Either because Seethe told them so, or because Amry dropped dead from running.

Horses were notorious for running themselves to death when they were afraid. Maybe she could convince the creature to stop? She did not know if the shape shifter spoke the same language as all the other animals of the world. She had never met or heard of an animal such as Amry.

It would be a shame for such a fascinating creature to die.

Especially if she could add him to the pack. It would be good to have a pack. The Rith had been so long without packmates that even the detested humans were starting to seem desirable as companions. She was so lonely. There was no Logan to talk to or to offer her neck to every night. No cubs to keep her company. And no Packfriend. She had not one. Not really. Logan had been one. But he did not count. Not any more.

She had been thrown out.

Disowned.

And the friendship was over.

Friendships were like that in the animal world. Still though, the Rith could not help but miss her pack. Again she cursed Logan. Fool leader. He had no right-- She choked on a sob,blinked back tears and kept running, ears back, golden eyes turned yellow slits. Her powerful leg muscles bunched and unbunched with every stride; her breathing kept rythm with her paces. She would catch them. He had every right.

A snarl escaped her, and she leapt forward with renewed determination. Lucky logan wasn't around. He would have probably been killed. Beaten near death at worst. She would go back one day. One day. And she would...she would--

She tripped over something; so absorbed she did not see it or even notice what it was. She tucked and rolled, and was back up on her feet in a couple seconds. They had to tire soon...