light does not reach

somewhere between reclaimed roots and blackwood reach

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though lonan belonged to the labrynthian and was indebted to them, she was given freedoms. for once did the young nightful child wander outside of its claim, being embraced by new smells and noticements of all that was around ; forested it was, rivers and so and mountains she could see... a land of woodlands, the smell of loners and rogues alike wisping through the air alongside of pack animals. who was allied with them again.. elkshire, was it? and another, nightwalkers?

she prowled through the day, a caution hung to her while a ghastly-eye gazing out — she didn't know the dangers that lurked around, but lonan was not so naive to realize everything was safe. one way or another she was taken from one land, and to another, stolen away from a family she not remembered. there was no clues, and doubted to ever find..

perhaps it was all an excuse to see what was out there, as she nosed through a bush.

@Krueger

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 A nightmare skittered among the woodlands. Leaving his usual domain for the stench of the real world. Breaching the borders felt almost like a sin, but he knew no one would even notice his absence, as they barely noticed him when he was around torturing animals. And so, here he was, hopping through unknown lands, as clear as day without the fog sheathing him. It felt... odd. And it smelt funky. Not like the death and decay he was used to. 

 Something festered nearby, crunching of leaves underpaw, and a scent that did not scream loner nor nightwalker. Interest peaked, slipping through the leafy greens; the demon revealed only his head, eyes stained of garnet dripping with ichor. They shine as they find the victim treading alone. 

 A young girl who kept watch out of her peripherals, ghastly eyes searching for another specter. "You should be careful walking out here... I heard a rumor the doorstep to hell is nearby." Day by day, his voice grew deeper. Soon he'd be developing into a more angsty state, but for now, all that foreshadowed was the boy's voice, sounding like he constantly had a sore throat. 

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misc skill: trickster
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the sun was at it's highest, casting a long shadow to all that reached. the forest was relatively silent, although in the distance she could hear the caw of crows. lonan's ears flickered, as she gazed a white glancing over her shoulder to them. this land was.. daunting, hauntingly so, where the most darkened critters seem to scatter on this southern land, but she had heard further down was lighter, and of elk.

although she tried to hid, the little walker of the night was not completely unseen. she gazed to see a boy, not much older then herself but still a starch difference within height. he was brown, a pungent scent that had lonan's nose twitch for a quiet second, as she raised from her hiding position and locked eyes onto him.

"is that so?" an urging to continue, as a quiet gaze looked around to see nothing, but a plain forest.

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 The first thing he noticed was how small she was compared to him. The nightwalker could be a monster among her culture, and yet he is merely a bear among his own — feared, but not the largest, nor by far, the scariest thing around. Here, though, he can be whatever he wanted.

 "Oh yes. Most parents do not let their kids run around... so freely." Krueger's eyes roll over her, inspecting every inch, trying to find a scar or something akin to it, tainting her lithe form. "Do you have a keeper? Or you as lost as the souls that are damned?" He might not be his father, but he'll die before he acted like someone else. He wanted to be him. Dreaded when seen, knowing that death may be near, but maybe by his good graces, you'll escape. A wide smile accompanies the boy's deep voice, teeth gleaming like a shark when it nears food. 

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misc skill: trickster
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lonan wouldn't do. she was raised in abnormality, within a cult who believed of wolf superiority but not under the care and loving of any. tended to herself on most days while their caches ; a busybody to no one beside the honing of one's own skill and questioning as well as gaining knowledge around. she was at the prime age where freedom was let loose, and knew to be extra careful when stepping too out of bounds in the areas around. he seemed someone who toyed a lot, and the blackbird knew that can be both dangerous, and not. 

"i align with labyrinthian," was all the little black plague would give. she neither had a true caretaker, nor' parents to call her own or even remember.. whoever they were, left one way or another. fleeting figures that neither gave a wanting of yearning, or a fear of another ; an absence that felt like nothing. most days, felt like nothing.

a ploy of intimidation did not work, "you smell of pack."

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 Without claim on who bred and watched over her, there was a certain mixture of curiosity and pity for her. With no one's legacy to fulfill, how did she go on? Krueger was fueled by the prospect of being one of the spawns of the boogeyman, doing his dirty work until his body was worked to the bone. Of course, this rarely applied now. As a child he had a certain freedom, but he didn't have to be demanded to do such things. He was happy and loyal enough to do them on his own. 

 "Labyrinthian." The little nightmare repeated, testing the name on his tongue. In passing, he'd heard of them, but not enough to know what they were about or who any of them were. Though it didn't matter. Nothing scared him. Well, everyone was afraid of the boogeyman, if they had any common sense. But otherwise, he feared no shadow, death, nor any creatures that laid in the valley between. 

 "What a smart wolf you are." There was a sneer to his voice, treading a step closer. "I'm a part of Nightwalkers." His teeth glittered, a shimmer of white that had not been stained too many times by blood, still pure by means of blemishes. Krueger waited for her reaction to his homage, seeing if she flinched like she should or if she kept a cold stalemate as she had through his warnings of hell's door. 

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"we are the same age." she blinked plainly at him with the comments and strangely amusement he held, a voice that almost felt he was looking down at her and seemed that was slathered in a toxic honey. however at this moment she would yet to gain her growth sprurt, where the meanwhile was shorter then the wolf who gained such genes of elsewhere. was the smell of scum part of it? she did not comment, feeling it'd only grow a resenemtent when enemies was far useless in these lands of evil. the name nightwalkers was not one that sounded friendly, and a child formed like him was neither brought up in sparkles and sunshine.

"what do you normally do?" she so asked without the flinch he was expecting and the continual of the idle talk.

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 Her statement brought him closer to the fact that even those the same age did not have the same thoughts. And very little wolves had similar conceptions as he did. "And?" The nightmare droned, with a roll of his paw, as if to say 'go on.' But he wasn't interested. 

 "What don't we do?" He asked rhetorically, glancing at the sky as if to question it, too. His prideful smirk didn't leave his maw, looking back to her with eyes full of sparks. Like he had the blueprint for life, and she had nothing more than a mere peek at his plans. "We keep the peace." In hell. "What does Labyrinthian do?" 'A little lamb like you?'

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misc skill: trickster.
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