I want to taste the way that you bleed

The wraith dies bloody. 

She is old, yes; her vision grown dim, the strength and fire of her youth lost. But it can not be said that she had ever ignored the call of battle, seldom though it came in her old age. Aeronwyn does not know victory nor defeat in her final moments, only swiftly falling blackness as the line of her spine is broken. 

The pasture is still in the aftermath of the storm. The glow of the sunset through lingering clouds infuses the place with a soft yellow glow, the rare kind certain storms leave behind. The air tastes of ozone still, though the last lightning strike has long since dissipated. There is a certain crackle to the air, an ionizing pull. But the lightning it would usually herald does not appear; instead, the haze over the meadow seems to shift, consolidate, and where there was fog and the taste of metal stands a wolf. 

For a moment, the wraith-wolf is entirely motionless. Her exhale is slow, the remains of a final breath her lungs had expelled someplace far away from here. Inhale, and she falls into motion. Easy lope carries her north, she savors the rhythm of her paws against the earth, the song of her breath, the ease of her limbs. Already, memories tarnish and rust.

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Thalia wtf that was so beautifully written, how in the hell am I supposed to follow up after THAT!! LOL

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Over the past few days the chocolate-coated brute would wander more and more away from King Elk Forest and more toward the woods with which he wished to claim. @Célnes was gaining her own little cult and thus there was less need for him to lurk in her woods as a guardian - perhaps it would soon be time for them to focus on their own projects and begin to shift their alliance into the long-distance pact it was meant to become.

But as he drifted along the future borders of his claim, a scent caught his attention... The scent of a ghost, a wraith, a friend long ago beyond the memories of Hydra and himself. A lifetime before the last, a dream lost to the smog of time and brought back by a new mist. Beckoned to investigate, the left the confines of the darkened canopies and into the rolling hills of grasses and shrubs.

He could smell her in the air, in the haze as it grew stronger with every elongated, measured step he took. As if should he approach too quickly, the scent would fade away and so would this being that clouded his thoughts. Soon.. they would meet, face to face as the pale phantom and the ghastly savage approached from opposing angles.

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ahh thank you!! <3 <3 I'm so excited to write them together omg

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She pulls the dewy air gladly into her lungs; there comes the scent of damp earth, new growth, evening and living carrion. Her steps slow, shift, and though the fog parts for her as she moves in this new direction; it is reluctantly, fingers of mist beckoning her back from whence she'd come. In the coming darkness, the edges of her seem to blur, as if tempted by the offer. 

In stark contrast is the beast, whose hulking form is easily discernable even through the haze. Burning eyes of coal cut through the fog, and hers rise to meet them. They are face to face then, the monster and the wraith, and the corner of her muzzle curves a moment in the only outward display of glad recognition. Much of her once-life is already lost to her, but myth-made-flesh does not allow itself to be forgotten. But this is not the reverent personification of primordial chaos and darkness the wolves of the Wood prayed to; Vengeance lives and bleeds as she does. 

She slips forward still, carving a path through the haze as she cuts around and to the left of him, tracing the edges of the beast with silvercut gaze. The wraith stills her paws; somehow, she is not entirely surprised to find him in this place. 

"vengeance." 

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Anticipation grows in his gut as her scent swells all around him. The pull growing increasingly stronger with every step that carries him forward as if the strings of fate themselves drew him in. The mist that crawled along the ground making it easy to ignore the world that spun around them unpitying of a reunion between old... well, whatever they were. The blackening low growing greenery blending into the distance with the fading sun shading their colors.

Then — as if from the sweetest dreams of which he would never be privy to, she emerges from the ghostly landscape. The haze unveiling her bit by bit. Still, his eyes could barely pick her out from the mist that strangles them, how her pelt blends with its greedy tendrils that latched itself onto this land. She was ethereal, slender, and beautiful; while he, sordid, hefty and rotten in comparison.

As the celestial woman approaches, he pauses. Enjoying the sight of her approach and carefully picking out the details of her from the shroud. “Aeronwyn.” He breathes. Almost surprised he remembers her name after all this time, after all these lifetimes ago. “Have you come to haunt me after all this time?” A mischievous grin tugs at his lips, welcoming the thought of her lingering.

He steps toward her, wanting nothing more than to invade her space - but not yet... he relished in the lasting moment, soaking it in just a little longer.

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The monster's maw splits into a grin, and her own curves slightly at his query. A brief shift of her tail, and then she is entirely motionless again. For a moment, she wonders at it; she does not know what has drawn her to this plain, and so near to the beast had she landed. She had never put her faith into fate, and nor would she now. Still; "I am not your ghost." Haunting seems a dull affair, and she will not waste whatever semblance of life has been granted to her with it. 

Memories come gradually; she stretched shoulder-deep into the mire of her once-life and pulls what fragments she can from it. "still, I wonder — have you found your followers? or playthings, perhaps?" Does he rove this land as he had the one they'd first met in, the monster mother's told their children about to keep them from wandering? Or had he accomplished what they'd once discussed, years and lifetimes from here? Their acquaintance had been a brief one, and though she'd moved on and lived on, she'd always wondered what might've become of the red-eyed beast. She does not deign to discuss her arrival here; she had lived and died and lived now again, and the desire to examine what that might mean is something she'd do in solitude.

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He grins. “What a shame.” He drawled. Was he flirting? In a twisted way, perhaps he was. First Hydra and how Aeronwyn, it seemed this place had become more so of a blessing than a second cursed life of which he had originally thought of it to be. A second chance with faces that he had long almost forgotten, a second chance at his empire of ghouls.

“I did at one time.” Unless his memory was playing tricks on him. “And I am once again.” Faster this time around, in no time he already had a small group of followers which was growing quickly, steadily, at a pace he could appreciate. He was picky after all and not every weakling would be welcome within his ranks. What was he planning with this group was still beyond him.

Most of all he desired to be an empire of strength, a beacon of power; and what he would do with it would all come at a later decision... he had many other steps to take before that time after all.

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His comment goes unanswered, save for a curve of her lip. She is not his ghost, but she is flesh and blood and all their desires; and for the first time in years, she is young, wanting and hungry. He confirms his success, in the place beside this one, and in this life too. Despite the established scents of earth and haze around them, the sense that many seasons had cycled here, it feels nonetheless new and young. 

She could leave the beast here, allow for the conversation they hold to peter out, to drift off into the unknown and wander, as she had oft when she'd been young before. Or she could make good on long-spoken promises, on the curious chance she's seemingly been offered. Perhaps he is right, and she is his ghost. "I offered my allegiance, once. Perhaps not in this life, but I will not go back on my word." Darkness has settled around them completely, now; the edges of the man seem to fade into it as she into the haze. His molten gaze, however, does not lose its fire. She finds them a moment as she falls silent, curious as to how he might accept her offer.

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^^

As the sun fades and so does its light, nothing but the glimmer of rubies and a flash of yellowed fangs as he grins at her offer. A Cheshire-like figure that stood out from the darkness that falls all around them. Though he blends with the night, the mist gives away his presence.. while she remains as mythical as ever. That was a long time ago, beyond the recesses of his memory and needing to be dug up and plucked from its burial after seeing Aeronwyn again. Perhaps an older ally long before Hydra even.

The grin fades as blackness sweeps his expression once more. “I will not hold you on your word in a past life, however, the invitation stands if that is what you wish to do.” For an old friend like Aeronwyn, his door was always open. He trusted her and appreciated her opinion and abilities. If he loved anything at all, it was the power one could hold and offer, and Aeronwyn radiated it like the moon itself that hung above them.

With the final words uttered, there was little more to share between them. The pale woman needed to decide her own fate and it wasn't necessary to do so right this moment. “I hope to see you soon Aeronwyn.” Was all the said before turning back to return to his woods. Only time would tell if she chose to move on or honour their previous agreement.

^^

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End!

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