Who Do I Have to Kill?

Vera

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"Scattered memories pierce through sadness
I’ve left a miserable grudge behind
for his sake..."

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@Kuhn

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To be back into the tundra brought a nostalgic philosophical feeling upon the wolf. With the cold and emptiness of both will and atmosphere she was allowed to reflect. The purgatory that was placed upon herself. She would never be able to leave it, but new doors to open and wander through were made available for her. Especially while she remained on the down-low to heal from the wounds that the Vanderfell wolf had given her. Vera had lost that fight, the brute must be losing her edge. Still the sting of wounds did not matter, it was the infection that did, becoming a worsening state. She hadn't been resting as much as she should, going on grand hunting adventures with elk and playing around with strangers was not part of the curriculum that aced good health. Thus she laid curled upon another rock as she licked her wounds. Vera preferred having a bird's-eye view to maintain the upper-paw.

Her mind wandered around to her life in Shiroshika, there were wolves there she still missed to this day. Then there was her family, torn to the seams. It was scary to be in this world without her brindle sister, Sasha. Confident and stoic, she always knew what to do, always nursed Vera back to health when she was left for dead. Sometimes they joked around and called her the Tiger Wolf. Even though most gave that title to Demyan, the leader of a subdivision that hunted tigers. That pack was a mess, more-so than Demyan who was missing all the features a wolf was known for. But at the end Sasha had killed him, so maybe she truly did earn the title even though both the sisters had never been near a tiger hunt. The odds just weren't in your favor for something that ridiculously dangerous. Speaking of tigers...Vera's mind would drift to the one she had met in this world. Kuhn.

Mysterious and impressive in every way. Vera wasn't sure if she regretted not wooing him first or for not getting him to kill her in the hopes of coming back as a tiger. Dignified strength was the only way she could describe him. Sometimes she felt like their roles were reversing. That he was now more wolf than she. Their last encounter she had left while feeling bitter. He had made much fortune and progress in life while spite was all she could still taste. Still he was a motivator for herself, his very existence made her more tenacious against the tides of life. She wished Sasha could have met him. She would have loved to see the two of them stand next to each other to create quite the paradox to look at. Sometimes she wish she could have seen him maul a wolf. How would that look? How easy would that be? A sick fascination, perhaps.

They say thoughts manifest reality at times, or at least paves the path of destiny. Maybe that was the case, for a familiar scent caused her to stop grooming her wounds and to look to her far left. A tiger was below her, the scent odd and exotic. But she recognized it, never forgetting after the first encounter. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Just to be safe, as she bounded off her pillar and onto the ground, she stalked forward with care, making sure to get a good look and a closer sniff before approaching a potential predator that could body her.

As she came closer behind him still the senses would not falter. It was him and that extra mane of his and the lingering scars. She did not get too close even if he was a secret idol of hers. Vera learned her lesson already on idols and messiahs. She took one more moment to resign herself to her actions, with her current injuries she doubt she could get away fast enough. The possibility of death brought forth an exciting adrenaline. "Well-well...look what the cat dragged in? Ha, you must hear that a lot. Privet, Kuhn." She called, and then oddly responded to herself, finding amusement not in the joke but at the fact she had said it. Solitude was a strain on the psyche.
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Walking, as much as he had to do of it these days was a chore.  Yet, he had found a new meditativeness in it.  It was a simple task, in that didn't require thought or aggression, but nonetheless helped calm the racing mind.  Between hunting, and travel between Nothfall and Duskguard, there was a lot of time to be alone with only the sound of each footstep and wandering thoughts.  

Occasionally,  the big cat would catch the glint of pink flesh on his forearm, reminding him of his new set of scars.  Most males of his kind would earn a great deal of them over the course of their lives, each representing one tale of conquest or defeat.  Though, for Kuhn he had gained them all at once, and he wasn't sure what tale he could tell about them.  He couldn't say he won or lost, somehow it wasn't that simple.  Perhaps they where a reminder to be kinder, despite the unjust  nature of the world.

It was contrary really, how the world was sometimes contradictory, no doubt he would now appear more monstrous laden with the marks of battle.  By nature, he was a creature that sustained himself on death and rot, though in the spirit of paradoxical things he had now more than ever witnessed life amongst his newfound companions.  Mind drifting with each step, his situation wasn't unlike the flowers that would grow up from the scum of the tundra ponds when the winter loosened its grip.  

Maybe it was in his nature to  sometimes imagine the horror he could have imposed on those who had done him wrong.  Or the sweet sense of justice that he could feel.  It would be a service to the world to tear the treacherous and self righteous limb from limb.  But, in the service to the self would likely never receive that service.  It was selfish in a way, but there where more important things.  The flower had grown from the muck, and that was the only thing worth defending now.  Perhaps the whole world was that way, treachery, selfishness and muck.  But, really all these things where good to grow flowers.  

Silently she approached him, not giving much of a warning before she spoke.  The woman's steps where silent and ghostlike.  Hackles only rose momentarily, before the notes of familiarity of the woman's voice won out.  Here was a face he had not seen in a long time.  Vera the scarred stood before him, she was seemingly a defiance of death, her tattered physique a rebellion to its very concept.  Every time he saw her it would be a surprise, and now was no exception.  It took him a moment to finish tracing her grim features with his eyes to muster the words to respond.  "I think I have heard that...  at least once before...", he responded with a hum and a slight grin after shaking himself from her appearance. 

Besides what she reveled on the outside, he didn't know much about this woman.  Once they had met near the sea shore.  Another time by a beautiful stream in the company of @Valmúa.   At the shore, though he might not have show it, the woman's outlook rattled the cat; immature in his naïve world view.   She had been an example of what one could become. 

It was fitting that once he gained his own scars he had to struggle with himself, much like she had that day.  Flicking in curiosity, the big cat's tail danced.  "How are you Vera?", he asked with a serous tone of genuine concern, not being able to help looking over her tattered lips.  In the same moment he was aware of the scared tear that ran through his own lip, a reminder to do better.
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She felt it, for only a second perhaps, but the malice she knew he carried in every stripe from his birthright had shown. The slight bristle and tension, it made her ears perk. Yet the rationality that brought forth the consciousness set by humanity would kick in far too soon to deny her of satisfaction. As he looked at her, she boldly took him in with a slight wag of her tail as greeting. Her smile almost faltered for a second as he peered at her, the ghost who had little-to-do with his life and yet somehow they were entwined in something unfathomable. There was something in his eyes that unnerved her, something she had seek to destroy and to hoard at the same time. A befuddling oxymoron that she did not wished to have shoved upon her.

Still, she had the grace to push it away, another door to wander through at another time. And as he spoke and smiled she was glad to be able to focus on just him as an individual instead, proceeding to reflect with an actual honest smile as if they were partners in crime. But with more observations came a short, but loaded, question. It echoed in her head. The concern struck a nerve, as it made her felt pitied, as if she were hazardous that would spew all over him upon any moment. But she held it once again, she could show restraint because it was Kuhn, and he was simply being reasonable after the melancholy of their last encounter anyways. Still, how did one answer such a question? Yes or no could not describe the truth well-enough.

She decided to be honest, and yet despite that her words came with a nonchalance as if this was someone else's problem and not hers but Vera could not hide it, the regret that laced the monotone facade she put up. That this didn't matter. "A corpse is but an envy for any like me. What's the point of anything now? Such a mundane routine for the shunned." She sighed and quickly shot back at him, trying to reflect the interest instead at the other. "So my bright orange friend, how are you? I see new scars have been added. Rugged handsomeness is not always what one should seek." She finished with a small dark chuckle, a seemingly innocent quip, which it was, but laced with a dark reference to a part of her past that she could still envision quite clearly to this day. It was amazing how one could change their face to such grotesque lengths. Still despite the references, she focused on the other intently, curious to know if her prying did anything.
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Their was certainly something admirable about the woman's boldness, wagging her tail in greeting.  Surely she had to be to gain such a collection of scars and wounds.  Perhaps even the gods smiled upon her for such bold living, or maybe some would believe it to be a curse.  Undeath for offending the way that the world had been designed, and sinning against reality itself. If that where the case than the stood in defiance of the all maker.  Still, all of this was an assumption, he didn't know much about the strange woman.  

Nodding as he took a moment to unpack her answer to his question, it seemed to be much the same sentiment from one of their previous meetings. Curiosity would draw the cat forward to find wisdom in the words of the living dead.  Prowling forward towards the woman, "I'm sorry to hear that.", he replied lowly, his ears drooping slightly.  The only part of what she said that he could attach himself to was the 'mundane routine' , though he decided to let it go, as she appeared eager to change the subject.

He couldn't help but still be a bit afraid of the woman, she had a way with words that was frightening.  Now after some time the cat had a new view on the world, but the flowers that grew from the scum of the earth where fragile, and the fear that Vera had seen something darker and truer was ever present.  

Grinning at the woman's charismatic quip, he shrugged his shoulders before rotating around to show off his scars, "Life has had its ups and downs...  Though for now I am content"

Completing his circle in front of the woman "Though it sounds like you just called me handsome?", he chuckled with a lashing tail. The curiosity about what this woman knew still brewing darkly in the back of his mind, a miasma, a painful curiosity.
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He answered, honest but aloof. It was not a behavior she usually minded, but when it was between just the two of them it felt like an important variable for the ever-changing yin and yang they created. As he walked around to show off his scars, a parade of what the living must endure, she couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle. Albeit perhaps her eyes did sneak upon his form, envious and impressed at the rippling of muscles attach to a pelt of flames. It seems she just always had to play with fire in one way or another.

His last words made her look into his eyes. She should have known he was sharp enough to pick apart her words and focus on the optimistic messages inside of them. "Oh did I~?" A little flirting never hurt anyone, especially for one rejected from love time after time. If Valmúa had a problem with it she could fucking come up here herself.

Vera took a step closer, and then another, such purpose was placed upon each movement. "I'm usually not into muscular guys but..." If he backed up she would merely keep walking forward until she was looking up at him, close enough for her breath to be felt upon his chest. Strange, she was use to being the taller one in these encounters. No lie had yet been spoken, perhaps she was never interested in the strong because she knew, maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually, that she could overcome and defeat them. To be near a being that she could never defeat through sheer strength was fascinating and brought an edge of danger and excitement she was not use to.

Finally she spoke the rest of her sentence, voice oddly gentle and yet it crept upon the silence with an appetite. "Perhaps its because you are the sole embodiment of everything I could ever want to worship in another." Honey-sweet, she flicked around to take a few-steps back again, making sure her tail came into contact with his chest. As she made just a little room between them once more to respect his space, a playful glint was in her eyes as she spoke back on track as if nothing happened. She was not as clever or smooth as her brother, but she tries.

"It seems you have had many ups and downs. Care to share further? I would love to learn and think about someone that is not myself for a change. The stories you share, they must be many, yes?" A simple invitation for his time. To ignore the beast of torment that plagued upon her and all who drew too close. Perhaps if he too engaged he would not notice its reckoning embrace upon them.
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Be it by her subtle reaction or just the aura that hung in the air, Kuhn knew his joke was a mistake.  At the woman's confident advance feline instincts would demand that he took a single step back, with a pang of nerves and excitement gripping his chest.  Out of pure reaction, the big cat displayed his teeth, looking down at the woman as she walked away.  They where so close now, he could feel her hot breath intruding into his pelt. Exhaling through his nose, a threatening rumble began to escape his chest.  

Escaping through her marred lips, the woman's next words, caused that same rumble to hitch. Obviously the cat didn't know how to feel, the mix of flattery, attraction and mistrust confusing his senses.  Before he could rally himself, his growl had turned into a considering hum, as the woman's tail slid across his chest, his teeth slowly returning to their hiding place.  Unable to keep his eyes in a polite direction, the cat's tail lashed as if he was trying to restrain himself from bearing down on the creature.  With his eyes tracing the muscular and scarred contours of the woman, it wasn't hard to see the harsh beauty of the wolf beneath the scars, toned and hardened from some unknown hardships. 

When the woman broke her eye contact, the cat took another step back, pulling a paw up from the ground and out of her spell.  "Ya - S... Sure." , he stuttered with a mix of emotions still in his throat, and some of her stranger words ringing in his mind.   "You probably want to know about this?", he added motioning to his scars, with a nervous lick of the lips.
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Vera did her best not to show the amusement of the other's previous actions. Of how thrown off they were at her actions. She thought the fluffy thing they called love was suppose to be some strong force? It seemed fragile when put next to opposition. If they were better of friends she would have teased the other with the label of a 'scaredy-cat'. What's to be disturbing of a scarred mutt like herself? Though she had an idea forming an answer. Instead she was able to reign herself in and remained respectful, not commenting or flirting an ounce more. As he took in her offer he suggested a tale from his scars. She proceeded to let out a deep sigh that seemed quite relaxed despite the specks of melancholy that lingered within it.

Ah, but who wouldn't be?" She asked with genuine curiosity before continuing without an answer. "Scars are both blessings and curses. They bring both power and vulnerability. To share of them is to share of our success and failures. Of our pasts and of our futures... Ser Kuhn, tell me..." She trailed off for a moment to look him dead in the eye, her red and blue orbs missing nothing, the slight dilation was almost feral. "Tell me about every scar you have from where and from what. I will remember their story and shape till the day I meet a demise. In return I will answer any question about myself to you in all honesty." She said with a wicked smile and furrow of her good eye. Something about it was so sharp, so dangerous. It was as if she were offering a blood pact to another. Something so foreboding and cursed was laced in each ivory fang that stood out in her grin. Perhaps the eeriness was from her genuine interest and devotion. She was ready to hear of his world, to accept its shadow into her own. As judge, executioner, and god, she would develop the new world she would borrow from him.

Into what was the question.
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Tentatively sitting himself down, the cat relaxed into his haunches, though his posture still carried an air of unease. Her flirtation did take it's tax in his mind; however, her admission of her admiration for him continued to chip away at his mental space, wondering why she might say that.

Vera appeared relaxed, in opposition to the cat's tension. It was like she had done this before. Was this a little game she played with people? Still, her almost poetic manner of speech continued to roll from her tattered lips, while the mismatch in her eyes appeared to dig deeper. It was like she wanted him to realize his story in the form of a calf so that she might tear into it's manifestation. Perhaps it was a hunger Kuhn saw I'm her eyes, exposed teeth waiting for their prey.

Kneading his paws at the earth, the striped beast had to momentarily look away, pointing his gaze upward at the sky, trying to piece together how he might tell this story.

With an exhale, he leveled his gaze with her own. "If you noticed, I gained most of my collection all at once..."

"It was Reiko and her pathetic herd... But, they failed to kill me...", He continued, Reiko's name triggering a barely audible growl and the feeling of his teeth crushing into the small woman's skull.

His short flash of malice would be noticable to someone who was paying attention, his tense posture and thrashing tail giving more of a tell. Though only a moment later, the cat sat himself up straight looking to a neatly healed scar on his shoulder. Likely, these injuries would have been much worse if it wasn't for @Harper and the others who had took him in.

The tightly healed scars where paradoxical in a way, only earned because of treachery, and healed because of trust. It was like some sick lesson that was laid out just for him. Yet, there was no regret.

Eyeing over the woman's tapestry of cuts and gashes, he wondered if she carried any regret. What story might she tell?
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Vera had listened unabashed to every word. Yet as he uttered the name of Reiko her expression became unreadable. Actually, that was not the case, there just ceased to be any emotion to remain on the winter wolf. Her life was like a tightrope, losing her balance slightly always resulted in her falling, and hard. A noise that could be described as a snarl mixed with a wail was ensured, loud and as uncomfortable as if nails were shredding into ears. Her movements quick as she flailed in her personal space, biting at the air as if invisible enemies hovered all about before she ultimately collapsed onto the ground. Her form shuddering as she gasped for air. Her eyes glistening with a maddening gloss. She could see it, she could feel it, tearing off legs, connecting craniums with Reiko. Along with it shards of various other actions that were so similar in another life reflected until she wasn't sure where she was or what she was looking at anymore. A paw tightened around her snout again, digging in and drawing blood out of healed scars. "Yob Tvayou Maht!" — curse words/basically mother fucker She had spat while more insults and nonsensical gibberish of Slavic origin rolled off her tongue.

Such an anger and bewilderment could be felt rippling off of her in waves, and then it fizzled out as she broke into sobs. It was several long minutes before she regained enough composure to remember Kuhn, why she was here, and the fact that she even existed. As if beaten and bruised, she slowly rose, her vision splotting. The wolf was an eerie sight, it was almost like a corpse resurrecting due to her scarred body and defeated anguish as the blood trailed off of her snout onto the ground without stopping. Her head wasn't exactly angled right, leaning more to the lower left, her blind eye moving stiffly up to look at the orange friend. It almost seemed as if the eye was working again due to pure malice.

"That...is unfortunate." She finally said, the words so prickly and cold that it could send shivers down a spine. It would be another few minutes before she had the energy to say something else. "I thought she was faulty but I had only witnessed the queen's actions at my own...for her to try and kill one such as you...she has mistaken her identity to something far worse than I thought...far worse than me." She said and rambled. It was pure sacrilege. Not only did Reiko take her home from her after giving it to her, she had even tried to take away the sigil that burned for all she stood. Reiko wanted to take everything from her. Delusional, Vera saw this as a personal vendetta even if there was no correlation or logic to make this claim whatsoever.

She laughed but it ended with a cough as she tried to relax, recoil to spring at another moment in another future. Saving face despite the emotions she showed still burning on the inside. Smiling at Kuhn and tilting her head to a more normal manner to address him. "The world is small, thank you for sharing. Let me return the favor..." She pointed to her fucked up nose before moving her paw to where her heart was. Vera would speak of the scars from her nose and a few on that calloused heart of hers. "I use to be a part of Reiko's group, even when I first met you my actions were for her...but I...I am broken." She had gone back to talking as if she was fine and amused, but it faltered with her last few words. "I accidentally hurt another in a way that could not be healed and I was banished. Later I met Reiko again...so self-righteous...to spare me and ridicule me like that..." Her body was shaking again, voice trembling as the rage and anguish seethed. "I became wanted after that. Altýnnogo vóra véshayut, a poltínnogo chéstvuyut — Little thieves are hanged, but great ones escape.. To this day they and their allies would love to get their paws on my hide..." She smiled, forced it, but somehow it was still endearing and original. A smile from someone who had nothing left.
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It was the moment, he released those words that he saw something switch over in the woman. At first he watched, seeing the glaze of there contrasting eyes. It looked as if she was having a vision.

All at once, the cat's back coiled and released sending himself backward into the air. It was a pure reaction to the woman's sudden yowl. By the time the tiger landed, his hackles where up, watching the woman thrash about as if she was tearing at some invisible prey, pulling it apart in the minds eye.

Adrenaline and curiosity overwhelmed the cat, who remained silent and focused while the woman sobbed. A feline stride carried him back and forth, prowling around her newly created aura. All the while he remained tense, watching, waiting to see what was next.

When the woman pushed words though her exposed teeth, he couldn't help but naturally take a step back.

Vera was mad.

Swishing his tail back and forth, the cat paid great attention to every word she uttered. She had also been scorned by the little white bitch, but the story wasn't quite clear. The woman's flattery once more started to seem more and more dangerous. Someone such as you. How much did she think she knew of him?

Still it was cathartic in a way to hear someone else call Reiko defective. Really even his best of friends hadn't given him much of a space to talk out what happened. Though, obviously they cared for him: Valmua fighting for him, Tiberius leaving his pack among others who spoke more with their actions. Though, here was someone to comiserate with. Feeling like he was communing with something powerful, raw and dark, the big cat's curiosity eventually overcame his apprehension. "Defective...", hummed the cat, his posture still low. In many ways, it wasn't unlike the energy someone like @Olive emitted. Though it was just as powerful, it was the opposite. For a tree to grow into heaven, it's roots must grow equally into the darkness.

"One that judges themselves by their own good intentions is never wrong. This is the most dangerous creature."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, truly."
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Vera's ears twitched as he spoke the word. Was it at herself? Him? Reiko? She would not know or guess it. She was far too busy being taken aback at the others comfort. "I thought cats weren't suppose to be so cuddly and sweet. Spah-see-bah, Spah-see-bah! Thanks for the encouragement." She laughed softly to herself, eyes closed as she took a breath in, trying to absorb the positive feelings he bestowed. The bravado was back and she would not allow it to falter again today. Pride and vulnerability refused it. Her mind was a different story though, it felt sharper and sporadic as she quickly reflected upon his words. His description of Reiko wormed an intrusive thought into her. In a way she was not that different. Vera was aware of her intentions and what was wrong or right. And despite that she saw a third action between such a black and white notion. Gray. She could understand and or acknowledge it all but she could still cover her conscious and choose her own path unabashed now with eternal righteousness. If Reiko was suppose to be the most dangerous being than what was Vera herself? She wanted to be the opposite but the body count was in the way of that.

She hummed softly, in the mood to traverse now due to the fire in her blood. She went about her thoughts in an open but roundabout way. "When I was a pup, I had a collection of stones. All sorts and shapes. I loved them so dearly, they to me were a sign of strength and endurance for how they withstood time, immobilized and waiting for the future. I had never been more wrong." She started. "I lived the life of a hunter, but I was bullied relentlessly. Others learned I was weaker than them and thus I was beaten and stolen from every. Single. Day. I had nothing left with or inside of me but that stupid collection of stones." She began to pace, a spark in her eyes. "But once, an amazing wolf, a tiger wolf she was described as, found me just in time and fought back." She said with pride and an unusual warmth. She left out the fact that this was her sister, the details did not matter-for she did not have the courage to speak of them and birth facts in reality. Because then the aftermath of these facts would also be truth upon air.

"It motivated me to fight back by their side and we kept them at bay. I learned the value of strength. It comes from action, courage. Defense like stones is cowardice behavior that brings forth nothing. So it seems..." She bit into her gum, adding to the blood. "Bullies are still running rampant in my life, huh? Our life. I have been far too on the defensive, I need to get stronger for the both of us." Before she continued she stood up taller, unhinge was one of many words to describe the fiery look she bestowed upon him as her voice dropped an octave before it would raise as she spoke. "I will bring you a mountain of your enemies upon the wake of the den to parade into the dirt. Let their frozen lack of life remind you of a garden of stones or the throne you deserve. Insignificant, worthless. A promise to one that allowed me a moment to bathe in kindness when none ever have. I am one that carries my gratitude far. The world, I wish to make it cleaner for those with hearts like yours. I will butcher the sins of yore." She began to walk slow circles around him, eyeing him like he was a delicious piece of meat. "Oh how I want to rid this world of the inferior and run through the frozen moors by your side, to bask for eternity in your life.." Her expression grew wistful as she slowed down her skulk around him. "Yet I know that is my own journey to understand. That is my toska. I am not allowed or befit to your company"

She took a break from all the monologuing to focus solely on Kuhn, one last remaining question to the stripe being's identity. "So, I have told you secrets that I chase in life. But you. Do you know your own journey? I can see it within every stripe and scar you bare." She was close, far too close. Their meeting here, it would end soon, she wanted one last good look upon his face before she started to be serious upon her path she boasted of.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7ZqZVun...el=Heilung

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Perhaps there was something noble about her struggle, though he couldn't shake the chill in his spine.  "Vera, I'm nobody...  Please don't live for me.", he uttered with a tone of uncertainty in his voice as she prowled around him. It was something he might do to prey, but today in the arena of though, he felt out matched.   Only moments before, the big cat had been captivated by the torn woman's story and admittedly inspired.  Her world view was something that he had struggled with only a few months back.  Oh how he felt the same way, the world was unclean, full of scum begging to be cleaned.   But, the world was a big place, how could one soul possibly cleanse it all.   Obviously, the answer was that many such souls would do it.  If there where more people like this tattered wolf than evil would be pushed from the edges of the earth.   

A story of stones told by the woman, was an analogy for life wasn't it.  She was right, unfortunately on had to be strong to hold off those who would do wrong.   And wouldn't the world be better without those creatures.  

It made him feel guilt

He had carved out his own corner in the world, and chosen to protect a key few things he held dear, but this woman was set to protect the entire world, and for one reason or another him.  Not knowing her long he doubted he could dissuade the reaper.  As the woman circled, his eyes found new enlightenment on her scars.  It seemed that she had literally sacrificed pieces of herself to the world, missing flesh given to the perceived justice of the world.    Her vision was so tempting, he could see himself the same way, starting by butchering those who would not settle for speech with him, then cleaning the world for others who didn't have the strength to do so themselves.  Maybe one day he would be pushed to do so, a scarred beast atop of the corpses of evil.

But for now, he couldn't leave the side of those he chose to care for.  He wanted to tell her to: Live for herself.  Though he couldn't fault the dark nobility of her task, it was better than he could do: such sacrifice.   

Swallowing, he was at a loss for words.  Once again this strange woman showed up to topple the way he saw the world; a reminder that things are not simple or good.  "So what do you see for me?", was all he could eek out, at a loss to the woman's way with the tongue.
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She was a woman of too much passion, and barely enough restraint. As he spoke of being a nobody, of not living for him, all she wanted to do was latch onto his face with claws and shred every single layer of skin off his face. Lies. One of power was not a nobody. Nobodies were the ones that were stepped on and leeched away. His strength and courage to walk in a world she could not even handle was worth a million words. What really upset her was the disrespect of her vision. To not live for him. It showed he acted kind to her without a second thought, that was how insignificant she was to him. Self-absorb like herself and everyone else that was a somebody. He discouraged it, the vision and purpose she sought for.

If this was not it then what was her reason for living? What was the point of her painful existence? Everything that had been a reason was no more. Paths she fought to obtained once were closed shut by folly. She would not let him close this door in her face. In fact for the warrior it was more apparent that she just cannot let him. She was at the end of a plateau, pushed to an edge she herself was not even aware of. Too smart, too relentless, she needed to climb out of this hole she dug and find something. She hated this isolated prison. Just let her have something... Or she would drag them all into this hole. She was getting far too desperate.

Unaware of the strings silently snapping off of the balalaika that was her metaphorical mind; she answered his question, eyes never straying from his own. "You don't belong anywhere in this world. You will fight and latch onto those unabashed by you and find a purpose. You will taste love and its shades, become addicted to it in a world where its absence is guaranteed. But people fear it, fear you as you do not fit in with their plastic molds because they can't control you. Everything you are loved for now will be the reason for your hate. Watch your life crumble around you by the wicked for no other reason but lack of understanding. They will try to break you. To take away those that stand by you. Friends, family, they will be broken and chipped away into dust-or until they consume one another as cornered animals. You cant have peace because you are strong, growing stronger by the day even, and now you will fight for the rest of your tired life until there is nothing to fight for. Until scars creep and mingle into your stripes, heritage and destiny entwined into a matryoshka of keloid that will never stop spreading until you are dead. You will not be able to look at yourself, think of yourself, feel like yourself."

She moved her head even closer to him, a look of mocking pity was upon her face with the slightest smirk. "Such a shame, hm Handsome?" It was a true tragedy. But there was always light at the end of the tunnel.

"But despite it all...you will find a way to escape your toska. I know you will." It was fast, sudden and bold. Her head crossing the remaining distance to latch sharp teeth to implant an incision upon the other. A cut into the scar that held such a prominent sight on the right side of his lip. The blood trickling down his fur as it merely stained her teeth. She could taste him and the idea of having his blood on her tongue, the blood of such a powerful beast, made her feel unstoppable. Is he lucky she didn't go back for more or is she for avoiding a broken jaw? She would take the advantage of shock to say one more thing. "A love bite or a parting gift, you decide." A spastic wink that stuttered at her last poor attempt at humor.

Quick, she bounded away and ran. Never looking back. The wind carried her actual farewell to him "Prashai..."
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It was like a drill into his mind, everything that he knew he could become, he could see, she could see.  It was as if the woman's dull eye could see beyond his striped pelt and into something much deeper.  In the web of possibilities, he could once again see himself sitting atop of devoured dead, those who he would deem unworthy of life, evil, and better off in the next world than here. 

In the vision, he could taste the blood of wolf, licking his chops; the memory colored by his experience in the Everfrost.  In that same vision  amongst the myriad of scattered bones and gore,  he could envision Reiko's separated skull, half stripped bare of flesh, pinned under his blood stained claws.  It felt right.

Suddenly he could see himself smile.  

A wicked visage, of tooth and gore.  That oh so familiar scar on his lip: from the clean line that it was now, spread outward, consuming his face, rotting until there was bone and putrid flesh.  When the vision returned to him, what he saw was himself in resemblance to the woman who stood in front of him.  It was a tiger in its form, with all the cruel scaring and missing flesh that characterized Vera.  

He didn't recognize himself, but it was Kuhn.

What he saw brought him back to reality, and no longer could he feel the harsh winter air burn at his exposed maw.  He was whole for now.  So thoroughly had this woman unraveled the way he had been living.  It was once again, the nature of magic.  The words that where said but never spoken.  Her vision for him, had conjured an image an image that was both horrifying and seductive: made in the image of its lupine creator.  

As his eyes refocused themselves on reality, in the place of his flayed self in another world, he saw that woman of many scars in its place in this world.  Like she said the scars consumed until there was nothing left.  Friends, family, they had abandoned him, crumbled to dust.  It was all as she said it would be.  It was no longer the self he knew. 

Still exiting the liminality of what he saw, he could only perceive the woman approaching his lips, watching it happen in a blurred slow motion.  Feeling the kiss of teeth upon his lips, he could only taste the woman's warm maw for a small frozen moment, before it was all overtaken by a hot flash of pain, and then the metallic taste of his own blood.   It never occurred to him to pull away from the woman, even if he could, still frozen in a haze of primordial horror, and vigor simultaneously.   

He said nothing as she left him, left only with the taste of his own blood running down his chin.  
 

It was funny... How it tasted like wolf.  

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