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Post by Val on Nov 30, 2020 21:41:35 GMT
By the time his father’s cabin was in sight, Wolfgang’s exposed body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold. Nevertheless, he stormed forward with purposeful strides, throwing a swift glance over his shoulder to check on Kiona for the hundredth time throughout the trek. The girl had fallen unconscious as soon as they set off, and his worry for her wellbeing overpowered any cold bite from the snow.
As they neared the initial site of his transformation, he noticed his wolf’s distinct pawprints embedded in the surrounding earth. He stepped directly into one of the imprints, registering the dramatic size difference in comparison to his bare foot. It was strange to consider his wild side from an outside perspective, and the thought sparked his curious mind. Finding Kiona changed everything. After enduring a lifetime of trying to suppress the beast, he was suddenly thrilled by the vast opportunities that were laid out before them.
Wolfgang knew he was getting ahead of himself and quickly pushed the derailing thoughts from his mind. He was used to his mind working a mile a minute, but it was important to focus on the glaring task at hand. As he climbed the front steps of the decaying house, he picked up the scent of food cooking and fire burning, and swung the front door open without hesitation. “Sasha,” he greeted breathlessly, locating his friend by the fireplace. He approached her with an overwhelming sense of relief and pulled her up from the couch, enveloping her in an undoubtedly frigid hug, “You’re safe.”
Sasha deserved an apology and an explanation, but there was no time. Instead, he pulled away and scanned the living room for a place to lay Kiona down. Although there was no time to reunite with the house and the memories it held, he still felt the presence of his father like the man had never left. The interior was exactly as he remembered it as a boy, like his father had left one day and everything became frozen in time. The living room itself would be more accurately described as a library. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were filled with enough books for a lifetime of reading. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, but Sasha had already brought life into the place in the short time she’d inhabited it. Cozy couches formed a circle around the fireplace which was emitting enough heat to begin thawing his nearly frozen toes. The atmosphere was calm and quiet, a place of study and reflection, until the anxious trio appeared in the doorway.
“Quickly,” he prompted, gesturing to the largest couch to place Kiona on. Without missing a beat, he turned his attention back on Sasha, laying out the scenario with a sense of urgency, “Sasha. This girl needs your help.” The smell of blood was potent in the air, alluding to the severity of the injury, “It’s a self-inflicted wound- a deep cut, likely hit her radial artery.” He laid out what he knew in an attempt to speed up the process, even though Sasha did not need his help. He was unable to sit back idly as he watched the color drain from the girl’s face, slowly depleting his newfound hope for the future.
Kiona’s words penetrated deep into Ike’s frozen heart, evoking painful feelings he wasn’t aware still existed. Daddy. The word was nearly enough to bring him to his knees. It burrowed into his mind, morphing into an old and painful memory of the last time he’d heard those words. The face of a little girl emerged with blonde ringlets surrounding a set of round cheeks and impossibly large blue eyes- his daughter. Grief took hold of him all over again despite the years of what he thought had been healing. In a matter of days, Kiona and Trys had dismantled everything he thought he knew about himself. And now, with the utterance of a few delirious words, he felt his sense of resolve grow more absolute than ever. Whether Kiona liked it or not, she was still his mission, though his objective had changed from destroying her to protecting her.
Ike kept a tight grip around Kiona’s limp frame as they followed the stranger, holding her close to keep her warm with his body heat. Despite Trys’s best efforts to stop the bleeding, he could feel the warmth of blood beginning to seep through the bandaging and soak into his clothes. He kept his eyes straight ahead as they forged onward, unwilling to look at Trys out of fear that she would see the vulnerability in his eyes.
When their destination finally came into view, his arms had gone numb from carrying Kiona in the same position for so long. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Wolfgang climbed the front steps, second guessing his decision to trust the lycan. An ambush seemed far more likely than some sort of healer being housed in such an isolated cabin, but they had no other choice. He lingered at the bottom step, watching as the man reunited with someone inside.
His hackles were still raised as he took one step at a time, ascending the front steps, “We should keep our guard up,” he muttered to Trys. He hesitated before passing through the front door, his large presence filling the room, compounded by the fact that their entire group was smeared with Kiona’s blood. His eyes flashed dangerously as he regarded Sasha, but the woman didn’t seem to react to his warning. It took a double take to realize that the woman’s eyes weren’t focusing on anything in particular. Had this man truly led them to the care of a blind person? Grunting in disapproval, he leaned over the back of the couch and laid Kiona down gently, making sure to prop up her injured arm. Instead of retreating, he remained hovering behind the couch vigilantly as Wolfgang spewed out some medical terms he knew nothing about, “Can you help her or not?” he snapped impatiently.
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Post by starrea on Dec 1, 2020 19:23:39 GMT
Kiona didn't stay submerged in the merciful nothingness of the darkness for long; it unapologetically spat her back out, rousing her to consciousness before claiming her again. The pattern unmercifully continued, leaving Kiona semi-lucid for moments before falling back under the spell of darkness. Neither life nor death seemed to want her and she bounced between the two realms, neither one allowing her stay for long. There were no dreams. No bright light at the end of the tunnel, no visions of her family, no flashbacks of her life. There was... nothing. There was no passage of time when Kiona fell back into unconsciousness; it was like someone had taken a pair of scissors and cut moments of time out of her life.
Sensations assaulted her when she breached consciousness, overwhelming her. She could tell she as being carried, and her body naturally withdrew towards the warmth given off by her carrier. Her limbs were cold and heavy, completely useless even if she had the mental capacity to try to move them. She could feel her heart hammer in her chest but her breaths came out shallow and quick, unable to properly pull an adequate amount of air into her lungs. Warmth leaked out of her, soaking through her clothes and pooling onto her skin. After awhile, the warmth faded and the it became cold, trapping the bite of the chilly air against her skin.
At one point, Kiona remembered looking down to see big red dots decorating the dull forest floor, leaving an abstract trail of vibrant color behind them. Another time, Kiona remembered the eyes of a man in front of her and despite not recognizing him, she drew comfort over the fact that he was watching over her. In another clearer moment of lucidity, she realized it was Ike who was carrying her, and she wondered why he hadn't just let her bleed out on the forest floor. She had essentially done his job for him, freeing him of any obligations that he clearly struggled to carry out. Maybe he was bringing her body back home - he would have to mutilate her body, of course, so that it didn't look like a suicide. The next time she came to, she felt a wave of weary frustration. If she had known that dying would take so damn long, she would have gone straight for the jugular. She had already lost so much blood, too much blood, but her body was stubbornly clinging to life. It would be her luck that in the end, her ignorance over her own physical limitations and the monster inside of her would end up ruining her attempt at death.
The warmth disappeared and she was placed on something solid and still, and it jarred Kiona awake. Her eyes struggled to focus and she fought through the exhaustion to try to sit up. It was a feat; her body was slow to respond and it took a great amount of willpower to pull herself into an almost-upright position, holding onto the back of the couch for support. There was blood everywhere. Her skin was red and sticky and it had soaked through her clothes and when her eyes followed to where her hand was on the couch, she could see the red hand prints she was leaving. The sight alarmed her and when she abruptly pulled her hand away, she lacked the strength to hold herself upright and fell back down onto the couch. Scenes of her blood flashes through her memory and she remembered the way it splattered over every surface, up the walls and onto the ceiling where it dripped down onto her face.
The first person she recognized was Ike; "Don't let them get you," Kiona hissed, her voice heavy with a sense of urgency. Her eyes darted around the room, paranoid, and she took in the blurry figures of the other three in the room but only recognized two of them. Her sense of urgency increased tenfold when she met the eyes of the strange man in the woods and hysteria bubbled up - she could not let this man die because of her. "You need to go, before they come back!" Darkness started to encroach on the edges of her vision and her gaze snapped back to Ike. Despite having spent countless hours picturing the many ways he could die, it was suddenly very important that Ike survived. This time, she tried to fight the pull of unconsciousness, "Don't die, please don't die," The last thing she remembered seeing was Ike's face and then the strange man's eyes before darkness pulled her under and everything went black.
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Post by Elvander on Dec 14, 2020 17:11:25 GMT
Sasha barely had time to react to what her senses were telling her as Wolfgang stormed into the cabin, wrapping her in an icy hug. She gripped him tightly, feeling relief wash through her. Even in the moment of chaos, Wolfgang's presence was soothing and reassuring. He made her feel steady, like her trust in him would never be misplaced or broken. She quickly let go as the trio entered the cabin, feeling the space inside shrink with their presence. The smell of blood was strong, like iron in the air, and Sasha knew that someone was in grave danger. She quickly rolled up her sleeves and approached the couch, letting the sounds and the smells lead her to where she needed to be, but her head snapped up at Ike's sneer. If this stranger thought he could come here and disrespect her skill, he had another thing coming. Rather than answering him, she knelt beside Kiona as the girl lost consciousness again, wondering what delusions she was having. "Who have you brought to our door, Wolfgang?" she murmured, directing her questions to him as she laid her fingers on Kiona's arm, feeling the blood soaked tunic. She yanked it away and allowed her magic to flow through her fingers, healing the deep wound slowly and steadily, the bleeding beginning to stop. As Sasha focused her energy on the young woman, she was slammed with a wall of pain. Not the kind of physical pain that came from injury- the kind of pain that ran deep, rooted into heart and mind and soul. Grief overtook Sasha as she glimpsed the girl's agony. Tenderly, Sasha allowed her healing to creep into those places beyond the body, where memory and time locked loss into the fiber of being. She could help soothe that grief temporarily, help Kiona come to a place where she felt peace, for a time. The healer gently stroked Kiona's hair, feeling the mats. Immediately, she felt protective of the girl, and she wasn't going to let any further harm come to her. It was an instant bond she felt with her, and she couldn't explain it.
Trys could feel the change in Ike. In a matter of days, she'd broken through to him and she felt as though they were growing close. She knew that Ike felt deeply for Kiona after spending time with her. She hoped that with time, those feelings would be shared amongst the three of them. As Wolfgang led them to the cabin, she felt her heart quicken and she gave the slightest nod when Ike told her to keep her guard up. But she didn't really feel like she was in danger when they entered the warm, firelit room to see a blind, gentle looking woman and her dog. When Ike questioned her skills because of her sight, she elbowed him in the ribs. No need to piss off their one hope to save Kiona. Trys watched in awe as Sasha got to work, finally feeling like she could relax. Her own clothing and hands were covered in Kiona's blood, but she would wash up later, when she knew the girl was safe. She looked to Wolfgang, wondering by what miracle he'd found them. "We're trying to get Kiona to someone of her own kind... someone who could help her break her curse, if possible. What are you doing all the way out here?" she posed the question, trying to get to know their hosts better and ascertain a plan.
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Post by Val on Dec 19, 2020 1:09:10 GMT
Even as Sasha took control over the situation as he knew she would, Wolfgang struggled to wind down from the chaotic series of events. He could still hear Kiona’s warning ringing in his ears and see the haunting look in her eyes before she had lost consciousness. The girl was a complete stranger, and yet the smallest glimpse of her turmoil had left him feeling sick to his stomach. Her trauma ran deep, beyond the wound she had inflicted upon herself, and Wolfgang needed to know everything. As a man who struggled with patience, every tense moment that passed felt like an eternity of lost time. The only things keeping him anchored to the floor were Sasha’s steady presence, and his wolf’s intense infatuation with the girl sprawled upon the couch.
Lingering over Sasha’s shoulder, he observed her work with a sense of relief. The blood flow had already begun to cease, and the color was slowly returning to Kiona’s pale cheeks, indicating that Sasha’s magic had managed to pull her from the brink of death. He knelt beside Sasha and rested a hand on her shoulder, “Can you feel it? She’s like me,” he whispered, unable to hide the fascination in his tone, “I will explain everything,” he promised, keeping his voice a low murmur, meant only for each other to hear, “Thank you.” Sasha had saved his ass a hundred times over, and no amount of gratitude felt adequate. For the most part, Sasha was a difficult nut to crack; she’d opened up to him before, but he still couldn’t understand what she gained out of their relationship. Her loyalty was appreciated, but incredibly undeserved. Somehow, he had to make it all up to her.
A bout of silence had fallen over the room, but he felt a pair of eyes burning into his skin. It felt unnatural to tear his gaze away from Kiona, but Wolfgang forced his eyes upward where they locked with Ike’s steely gaze. The man’s eyes were piercing through him, as though he was thinking about ringing his neck right then and there. Wolfgang had never understood aggressive men, or those who made a point with their fists over words, but in that moment, he felt his defenses go up. Hatred flowed off the stranger in waves, and he got the distinct sense that Ike was going to make his life unnecessarily difficult.
A dry remark was forming on the tip of his tongue when Trys’s question saved the day, successfully pulling his attention away from the brooding man in the corner of the room. He met Trys’s gaze as she finished the question, and his hesitation was visible. The answer was complicated, and it didn’t feel like the right time to delve into his past and the events leading up to his arrival in the northern wilderness. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he’d been freed out of the kindness of their hearts, and he needed to tread carefully to avoid being perceived as a monster on the loose.
“I came looking for answers,” he replied simply. His eyes flashed briefly back toward Kiona as he recalled the incessant pull of the unforeseen force that guided him directly to her, “The good news is that we’ve both found what we’re looking for.” His eyes held an unmistakable promise- that he would be the one to help Kiona. Whether or not that entailed breaking their curse, he couldn’t say. The more he learned about his other half, the less inclined Wolfgang felt to rid himself of the wolf. The mere thought of breaking the trust they’d recently built sent a prickle of unease throughout his system. Once desperate to destroy the beast, he suddenly found himself unable to picture life without it.
Ike was even more on edge than usual. Watching Kiona in a state of agonizing delirium was more painful than he ever could have anticipated. He felt the urge to reach out and comfort her, let her know that neither of them were going to die, and that he was sorry, but it would’ve been useless. She had already slipped away from them as the healer went to work, and he could do nothing but stand by and watch over her.
Trys’s jab was a pointed reminder that he was a fool to jump to conclusions. He watched with a conflicting sense of awe and judgement as Kiona’s wound began to heal before his very eyes. The display only confirmed his suspicions about the South; their gene pool was tainted beyond repair. As incredible as Sasha’s ability appeared to be, she would still be considered a danger to the credo of his country. Instead of offering any sort of apology for disrespecting their hosts, he took a step back and leaned against the doorframe, keeping his eyes trained carefully on the princess.
The situation had quickly spiraled out of his control, and he could feel his authority over the group slipping away the longer they lingered in the foreign house. He had never expected to find someone like Kiona so soon, but now that they had, he had unexpected regrets. His distrustful gaze shifted to focus on Wolfgang, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. The man was eyeing Kiona like she was some sort of precious commodity, and Ike felt his hackles rise. Perhaps he should’ve plunged the knife into the lycan’s heart when he had the chance. Their eyes connected in the next moment and he set his jaw, willing himself not to disturb the peace.
Ike appreciated that Trys was doing the talking, but he couldn’t bring himself to share her civil attitude toward the southerners. Wolfgang’s vague answer only served to further agitate him, and he quickly averted his gaze. If he didn’t feel obligated to watch over Kiona, he would’ve already stormed outside. Instead, his eyes landed on the wolf hound that was laying quietly by the fire. Hound. He spared a glanced out the window, scanning the clearing for any signs of the cowardly tracking dog that had fled the moment he caught wind of the werewolf. He was positive that Hound had already caught up to them but was too skittish to approach the house. Ike didn’t blame him.
Restless, he shrugged off his overcoat that was soaked in blood and dropped it to the floor before crossing his arms over his broad chest, “She needs to wake up first,” he interjected bitterly, not keen on the idea of the group planning out Kiona’s fate before she even pulled through. He pushed off the wall and approached the back of the couch again to get a better look, “Is she…okay?” he asked, attempting to be more cordial this time as he regarded the blind healer. Despite his prickly exterior, he was grateful for her help and the fact that Kiona was looking better with each passing moment.
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Post by starrea on Dec 19, 2020 20:58:42 GMT
The nothingness gave way to light and like a moth, Kiona was drawn to it. Her eyes opened but they didn't focus on the surrounding world, instead letting color abstractly swim across her vision without recognizing it for what it was. There was an eerie peacefulness that blanketed her, heavy with the distinction that none of this was real. She slowly explored her senses, systematically confirming that all her fingers and toes worked but found no relief in that sentiment. It was the strangest thing; she had all the characteristics of a human being - flesh, blood, and skin - but there was nothing remarkable, nothing real beyond the outward imitation. The streak of red on her arm caught her eye and her arm moved on its own accord, rising up so she could take a closer look at the damage she had inflicted. The memory surfaced through the haze in her mind and she trailed her fingers down her wrist, following the path she had cut away with the knife - except there was no longer a wound. Somewhere in her head, she registered the red that painted her arms was blood - evidence that there had been a wound - but her skin was unmarred, lacking even a scar. Had she tried to kill herself? She could see it so clearly; the way the knife had pierced through her skin, the way the world had gone sideways and the haunted look in Ike's eyes before she went under. Now, the memory felt strange, like it was someone else's story that she was watching.
There was tremendous distance between Kiona and anything remotely real. The pain and grief were too far away to touch her, and with her newfound invincibility against the suffering she had been plagued with, memories floated freely across her consciousness. She approached each memory cautiously but none of them evoked anything other than the strange sense that they didn't belong to her. She idly studied her bloodied hands as she pictured her murdered family, eyes staring vacantly ahead with large gashes slashed out of their throats. There was a dream-like element to her memories, the unmistakable way she felt disconnected from herself and her actions and could only impassively watch the scene play out in front of her. The emotions she had been harboring, all of the pain and agony, were far away and without them, she could see how they clouded her vision, how they drove her to extremes. Even amidst her dissociation, she felt that she didn't want to die.
The jarring realization of wanting to live triggered a startling question; was she alive? Kiona had retreated into the crevices of her mind, completely oblivious to whatever was happening around her, almost having forgotten that there was an entire world outside of the one in her mind. The world melted into focus and she looked around, just now realizing where she was. She was on a couch, the fabric stained red, and she hesitantly reached out to touch the fabric. Her fingers splayed out and she tilted her hand, lining it up until it matched a red hand print that had already dried into the couch. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and finally looked around the cabin, finally recognizing that she wasn't alone.
Her eyes were drawn to the magnetic stranger, the one who was like her. The moment she met his eyes, she felt something heavy collide with the glass that was carefully keeping her separated from reality, cracking it. It rattled her composure and she snapped her gaze away hurriedly, threatened by the reality of being confronted with everything she ran from all at once. She scanned the other occupants in the room, eyes skating over Trys and another stranger before landing on Ike. This time, she couldn't look away. He was covered in blood - her blood - and somehow, that realization was the very thing that shattered the glass between her and reality. Suddenly, she plummeted down from her safe distance from above, slamming back into her body and absorbing her reality as her own.
All at once, Kiona burst into tears. For some reason, out of the all the reasons she had to cry, she cried over the guilt over what she had done. It didn't make sense but Kiona wasn't in any state to try to rationalize it. The shame corroded her, eating away at her very essence; suicide was blasphemous, a cowardly way to die, and to attempt it directly dishonored her family's memory. "I'm sorry," Kiona choked out between sobs, looking up at Ike and letting her gaze flicker to the stranger for a moment. Meeting his gaze was even harder, increasing her guilt tenfold with just a simple look. She turned back to Ike, unable to face the man who made her feel things that she had no business feeling, especially not for a stranger. For a second, when she looked at Ike, she could let herself believe that it wasn't her bounty hunter standing over it. For a moment, he was her father - and as much as she wanted it, she didn't deserve his forgiveness. "Ai laik fiya, ai laik krei fiya, I am so sorry."
Kiona clawed her way up into a sitting position, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them as her body shook with sobs. She felt weak and shaky and the minor exertion of just sitting resulted in a painful throbbing in her head but she couldn't stop crying. She had a sea of guilt that was draining out of her one tear at a time. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She continued to chant the mantra even though the shame eating away at her already convinced her that she wasn't deserving of forgiveness. She didn't owe these people anything, least of all her guilt, but that reality didn't alleviate the tremendous weight of remorse crushing her or stop the apologies that flowed out in between her sobs.
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Post by Elvander on Jan 4, 2021 20:41:32 GMT
Sasha could feel the throbbing heat of the wolf inside of Kiona's veins as she healed her, letting more of her magic flow through the girl as she began to cry. Relief flowed through her that the girl had lived, but the tension and pain in the room was creating an intricate tapestry of interconnected lives she couldn't begin to unravel. Sasha gently sat beside the girl and put her arms around her shoulders, tucking the princess against her in a protective, comforting hold. Sasha wasn't the easiest person to know or like, but she had an undeniably nurturing presence. As Kiona cried, Sasha didn't try to interrupt her tangent of 'I'm sorry's. The girl needed to get it out of her system. As the strangers spoke with Wolfgang, she wondered if the two men would be able to get along.
Trys watched as Sasha healed Kiona with awe. She'd never seen anyone with quite so potent a magic, and she was grateful for it. She glanced at Ike, noting that he looked uncomfortable. Of course, she reflected. He didn't like magic. It was impossible to expect him to accept a new way of being and thinking all at once. As Kiona began to cry and apologize, Trys shook her head, kneeling in front of the girl and taking her hand. "It's going to be okay. We're all here for you," And as she said it, she knew it was true. She could feel Sasha's sudden protectiveness over the girl. She felt it from Ike too. And Trys, well... she'd felt it for the girl from the start, when she'd found her nearly frozen to death in a blizzard. Wolfgang too. He'd sought them out, even if it hadn't been intentional. What it all meant, she didn't know. And how they'd all rallied around this young woman, she didn't know either.
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Post by Val on Jan 7, 2021 5:06:23 GMT
Almost as soon as he had voiced his concern, Kiona’s eyes flashed open. Ike held his breath, watching and waiting as the girl regained consciousness and was hit with the gravity of what she had done. Despite the heartbreaking look in her eyes, Ike felt immense relief over the simple fact that Kiona had survived against all odds. The intense emotion was reflected clearly in his light-colored eyes, but he ultimately remained unmoving, acting as a statuesque sentinel standing over her as the pain surfaced all over again.
When she looked up at him, Ike sensed what was coming. His jaw tensed and he forced himself to endure the tears as they poured from Kiona’s eyes, trying to convey that he didn’t blame her, that he forgave her, and that he was sorry, too. Before he could speak, her eyes shifted away from him, landing on the stranger that stood at the other end of the couch. All at once, his defenses were amplified at the recollection that this stranger had been the catalyst to all of this chaos and pain. But then Kiona’s eyes were back on him and he had no other choice but to be there for her, and that meant letting the grudge go- for now.
As the women moved to comfort the distraught princess, Ike gripped the back of the couch with blood-stained hands, grounding himself as he resisted the unexpected urge to reach out to her. His instincts told him to embrace her just as the others were, but it felt inherently wrong after the part he’d played in her life so far. As far as he knew, Kiona still viewed him as the enemy, and he respected that sentiment. He didn’t expect her to trust in his newfound commitment to her wellbeing; not until he proved himself. Ike never claimed to be a patient man, but he would spend an eternity working to redeem his honor now that he’d acknowledged his wrongdoings.
“It’s okay,” Ike whispered almost inaudibly, “You’re okay.” With Trys and Sasha offering more compassion than he could ever hope to muster, Ike resigned himself to simply watching over her and making sure she didn’t become overwhelmed by the strangers and the strange place in which they found themselves.
Sensing movement at her feet, Ike’s attention snapped back to Wolfgang. He locked gazes with the man, a clear and distinct warning in his eyes. Kiona might’ve had some sort of connection with this foreigner, but that did not mean that he was entitled to her trust, either. The girl needed space and rest and time to recover. They all did.
Wolfgang could sense Kiona’s return to consciousness before the girl even awoke. The same pull that led him all the way to the deep north had returned, but this time it was stronger. He’d never felt so in tune to another’s well-being before, and the magnetism was fascinating to him. Wolfgang had always suspected that he had come across others of his kind without knowing it, but now he wasn’t so sure. If the feeling of being near other werewolves was always so intense, then she was the first. Perhaps, though, the connection ran deeper than being of the same species. The questions were piling up rapidly, but Wolfgang for once found himself satisfied with the knowledge that she had pulled through, thanks to Sasha.
The relief was short lived, however. Next came the grief; not his own, but the girl’s. The moment their eyes connected, he was met with a tidal wave of emotion that rocked him to his core. He could no longer tell which emotions belonged to himself, and which belonged to Kiona. When he tried to separate himself and disassociate from the painful feelings, they took on physical manifestations, resulting in dizziness and nausea that made him sway on his feet. Left with the clear understanding that he was meant to endure the turbulence with her, he stopped fighting the feelings and allowed her guilt to pile onto his own vast collection of harbored regrets. Before he knew what was happening, Wolfgang’s vision blurred, and wetness appeared on his cheeks. Subconsciously, he lifted a hand and caught the falling tears on his fingertips, bewildered by his reaction. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried, let alone in front of others, but he felt the sudden need to separate himself before he was completely debilitated by this mysterious connection.
Wolfgang took a small step back and scanned the faces in the room, wiping the remainder of the moisture from his face. As he tightened his grip on the blanket that covered his body, he was left with the painful reminder that he was still indecent and freezing. Before he could further succumb to the inner turmoil, he spoke up, “You’re safe now,” he promised, fixated on Kiona as she broke down. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he clamped his mouth shut as though he feared what words would fall from his lips.
Tearing himself away from the invisible tendrils that were drawing him to the girl, Wolfgang retreated to the back of the cabin and disappeared into his father’s room, exhaling a ragged breath as the door shut behind him. Numbed by what he had just witnessed, he was unable to appreciate the relics of his past that littered the room. Instead, he focused only on what needed to be done. He dropped the blanket unceremoniously to the floor and rummaged through his father’s closet, finding suitable clothing to warm himself up. Shaking each item of its coating of dust, he dressed himself from head to toe and looked in the mirror as he shrugged on a familiar coat. His reflection was strikingly familiar to the memory he had of his father, and he wondered what the man would think of the girl he had found and the unlikely circumstances he’d landed himself in. He imagined his old man laughing, slapping him on the shoulder, and reciting some obscure quote to make light of it all.
Feeling centered enough to return to the group, Wolfgang emerged from the room and observed them for a long moment. “Whatever you need, it’s yours,” he spoke up once he was sure things had calmed down enough to proceed. The blood, sorrow, and uncertainty were still pungent in the air and, despite his attempt to remain focused, his eyes strayed back to Kiona’s like a magnet to its counterpart. She needed to bathe, eat, and sleep. His eyes urged her to accept their help, but he felt an unusual loss for words in the aftermath of it all.
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Post by starrea on Jan 7, 2021 21:17:36 GMT
Kiona fell into the warm embrace of the stranger, too weak and too hysterical to reject comfort. She fell into her arms, burying her face into the woman's shoulder and crying out her grief. At some point, the apologies gave way to breathless sobs and coughs as she struggled to breath amidst her breakdown. The apologies were pointless anyway; they didn't alleviate even an ounce of the guilt.
There was no hiding from the truth anymore. Her family had been mercilessly executed, slain before her eyes, because of what she was. There was simply no way her parents couldn't have known her condition and they actively hid it from her - how they hid it from her was a complete mystery. It sounded like such an impossibility to not know such a massive secret about herself. There were a million questions; had any of her sisters suffered from the same affliction as her? Did any of them know the truth? How had her parents managed to keep this from her? Why did they hide this from her? Who else was involved in this conspiracy? There would be no answers, no relief and no closure; any answers had died with her parents. Looking back, with this new information about herself, her entire life felt fabricated. How could she love her parents when they had deceived her? How could she be deceived by her own body? And most importantly, how could she live with herself when she was literally the very embodiment of what she hated?
Her family was gone. Her home was gone. Her life was gone. She would never feel wrath of Inessa's hand-to-hand combat that always knocked her on her ass or the way she always pulled her back up to her feet. She would never see Dora's smile or listen to the bottomless pit of useless facts that Calina always spouted off. She would never borrow any of Sabina's clothes, or steal the pastries that Dora always made, or fall asleep to her mother brushing her hair. She would never endure one of her father's endless lectures again. The necklace Dora had made her and the little stone flower that Dimitri, the first boy she had kissed, were undoubtedly destroyed by now with the rest of her things. Worst of all, she would never feel the hug of her father or the way her mother kissed her forehead. Because even after knowing what they did, they were still her parents and she missed them so much it hurt.
Somehow, despite all of the things she had lost, she couldn't seem to shake Ike. Ike was turning out to be the worst bounty hunter known to mankind. Under his guardianship, she had nearly died twice - which should have essentially saved him from doing the deed himself, but instead, he had saved her both times. It made no sense; the only inkling of reason Kiona could find was that he had only saved her to bring her back alive, so she could be publicly executed. And the sickening part was that morally, Kiona agreed with the execution. If it were someone else, she would be in the crowd, close enough to feel the blood splatter when the axe came down. But her attempt on her own life had scared her, and she didn't want to die, and she definitely didn't want to die by the same terrorists who executed her family. Whatever Ike planned, there was nothing she could do about it right now. She too exhausted and too hungry to fight him, but, oddly enough, she didn't think that would even be a problem. For the first time since her family had been slaughtered, the imminent sense of danger that had been holding her hostage was gone. It was foolish to put faith in people she didn't know, but something told her that this woman and the strange man wouldn't let harm come to her.
Eventually, Kiona ran out of tears. It wasn't that she ran out of grief or guilt, but rather she ran out of energy. Her hysteria yielded and after several intentional, long, slow breaths, her breaths stayed even. She untangled herself from the woman, suddenly a little embarrassed that she had fallen apart in the lap of a stranger. She glanced around the room, squirming uncomfortably when she confirmed that all eyes were on her. Her gaze gravitated towards the tall man, now newly dressed. There was something different about him, something that made him so much more significant than everyone else in the room. As much as she wanted to deny it, a part of her wished that it had been him holding her on the couch while she cried. He obviously didn't share that sentiment; sometime during her breakdown, he had left the room to change, and even now he made sure to stand at a distance. The rejection broke her trance and her eyes flickered cautiously back to Ike, who was becoming more and more like her guardian and less like her jailer. At least for now, he made decisions for the both of them.
The silence was uncomfortably heavy. Everyone seemed to be waiting on her to say something, but she didn't what to say. "I'm okay," Kiona finally squeaked out, even though it was an obvious lie. The last three weeks or so had been a prolonged ruination, but she had finally hit rock bottom. Now, the only other way to go was up.
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Post by Elvander on Jan 10, 2021 19:53:51 GMT
Sasha held Kiona as the girl cried, feeling compassion wash over her and through her. She let the girl cry until she had no more tears, listening to the other sounds in the room. Ike's uncomfortably twitching told her that there was a complex relationship between him and the girl in her arms. From Trys, Sasha felt worry rolling off of her in waves. "You are all safe here," She offered, and rose, pulling Kiona up with her. "Please, make yourselves at home. My name is Sasha," She spoke stiffly, not exactly used to offering hospitality. But it seemed like their paths had all been intertwined now- Wolfgang and Kiona had been brought together by something bigger than them all. "There's stew on the hearth and bread on the counter. Ale in the cupboard," She nodded in the general direction of the kitchen, feeling Artemis pressing up against her legs and Kiona's. "There will be time for you all to bathe and get clean. But first, you," She turned her face back toward Kiona, "Come with me, child. Let me wash you, you'll feel better." It wasn't a question or a suggestion. It was a gentle, very subtle direction that coming from Sasha, sounded every ounce as caring as she meant it to be. She had felt the tangled mats in the girl's hair, and could smell the dirt and blood and sweat from weeks on the run. "Wolfgang, fetch water if you please." Sasha struggled not to smile at the idea of Van Dam struggling in and out of the house with water buckets, filling the tub like a servant. She began to lead Kiona down the hall to the bathing room.
Trys gravitated back to Ike as he struggled with the scene in front of him. Lightly, she touched his arm, letting her fingers rest there as she tried to bring him some comfort. It seemed everyone in this room was broken, but it felt safe for the moment. Despite being in the presence of two lycans, Trys felt inclined to trust the mysterious man and his healer. When Sasha offered them food and ale, she exhaled a sigh of relief. What she really wanted was a good sleep, but she knew she'd sleep better with a full belly and clean skin. "Where's Hound?" she wondered, watching the big wolfhound winding around Sasha's legs. Perhaps Hound would make a friend. She began to herd Ike towards the kitchen, searching for bowls and utensils.
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Post by Val on Jan 13, 2021 23:07:26 GMT
When Kiona finally spoke, Wolfgang felt the tension wracking his body begin to dissipate. Although the words were unconvincing, it was enough to know that she was no longer in the mindset that had led her to self-harm. Whether or not that was simply due to Sasha’s healing had yet to be seen, but he knew firsthand that such desperation didn’t simply vanish. There would need to be eyes on the girl at all times to ensure her safety.
Before he got the chance to speak up again, Sasha beat him to it. His attention finally shifted away from the girl and to his close friend as she took charge. A sense of admiration stirred within him, as it so often did when it came to Sasha, and he willfully took a backseat as she welcomed them into the home. The fact that she had only just stepped foot into the old cabin a few hours ago and had already made herself at home was not lost on him. Instantly, he was reminded of his mother who was the kind of woman who could make any place feel like home. Her death had created a devastating hole in the family, leaving Wolfgang, his father, and baby Sebastian to fend for themselves.
Sasha’s command caught him off guard, and Wolfgang was left momentarily befuddled as he prepared to object to the menial task. He shut his mouth before he ended up saying something ignorant and simply nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” He stepped to the side and watched the two women intently until they had disappeared down the hall. The living room instantly felt empty without them, and he glanced toward the other two guests to ensure that they wouldn’t object to Sasha taking care of the girl, “She’s in good hands,” he promised.
Satisfied that the situation had settled, Wolfgang swept out of the cabin in search of said water, not wanting to keep the women waiting. After fumbling through a dusty old shed around the side of the house, he was able to retrieve two large, wooden buckets to fill the tub. If he was being honest with himself, Wolfgang had never once prepared his own bath. The past few weeks had been a wake-up call, and he was beginning to understand the extent of his entitlement. Stripped of his wealth and status, it was easy to see how accustomed he was to relying on servants to cater to his every whim, and he felt some level of guilt over the matter.
Trekking into the nearby woods in search of water was humbling, to say the least. By the time he had located a stream and filled the heavy pails, he was dismayed to realize how incredibly heavy they became. Perhaps he should have spent his time in prison strengthening his body rather than meditating with the inner wolf. He hauled the filled buckets onto the bank and nearly knocked them over when a deep bark sounded from behind him. He whipped around to find a bloodhound had appeared on the opposite bank. The dog didn’t appear aggressive but was clearly anxious as he paced at the edge of the water. “Yeah, yeah. I know I smell weird,” he muttered, aware that dogs tended to have their guard up around him. Having the distinct feeling that this dog was a fourth member of their guest list, he sighed, “Come on, then.”
By the time he returned to the cabin, his arms burned from the exertion. He kicked open the front door and stumbled around the furniture as he made his way toward the bathroom, “Does this belong to you?” he questioned Trys and Ike, nodding toward the doorway where the bloodhound was lingering right outside. Without waiting for an answer, he continued his task and dumped the two buckets of water into the tub, only to realize that it was going to take more than one trip to fill the bath. Two more trips and several tedious minutes later, Wolfgang poured the final bucket into the tub and heaved a sigh of relief. He stepped out of the bathroom and rapped his knuckles against the bedroom door that Sasha and Kiona had disappeared into, “Bath is ready,” he called.
Resisting the urge to linger, he made his way back out to the living area and beelined for his father’s prized liquor cabinet in the corner of the room. He retrieved a well-aged whiskey and several glasses before casually approaching Trys and Ike as though his wolf hadn’t tried to kill them hours ago. “Drink?” he offered, pouring himself a hefty glass that he hoped would take the edge off his stress and his now aching back.
Ike flinched in response to Trys’s touch, only to slowly relax as he seemed to return to the present. His sudden obsession with Kiona’s wellbeing had been unexpected and accepting that the situation was now under control was not easy for him. His first instinct was to pull away, but he found himself eager to accept her comfort after the turmoil. If anything, he should’ve been grateful that Trys was not questioning his motives after his sudden change of heart.
He watched as the healer continued to comfort Kiona, gauging the girl’s reaction to the stranger and preparing the pry her away at the slightest indication that she was uncomfortable. To his surprise, Kiona seemed to calm down and he was forced to accept her questionable response for what it was. Those two little words were the first sign of acceptance he’d seen out of the princess the entire time he’d known her, and he took that as a sign that Sasha had truly helped the girl.
Ike restrained himself from objecting to the bath and offered a slight nod of approval in response to Kiona’s probing look. He wasn’t sure whether or not she was seeking his acceptance, but he felt obliged to give it. For now, these people had earned his trust and Kiona needed their help. His eyes remained glued to the women as they disappeared down the hallway and he continued to stare until Trys practically forced him to move. He reluctantly followed her toward the kitchen and immediately posted up on a wall where he had a complete view of the house- hallway, kitchen, and front door. Only then did he finally address Trys.
“Outside,” he answered gruffly. After a beat or two, he realized how petulant his answer sounded and back tracked, “He’ll be back,” he assured her, glancing out the front window as though he expected the cowardly hound dog to appear at any moment. After watching Trys rummage through the foreign kitchen for several long moments, he sighed, “I know I never said anything but…I’m sorry about what happened to your cat.” Perhaps he was feeling sentimental, but he knew that Trys deserved far more out of him after everything he’d put her through. If he’d never chased Kiona into her arms, she’d likely still be living in peace. There was a reason Ike had avoided giving his dog a name with sentimental value, but as much as he feigned disinterest in his canine companion, he couldn’t prevent himself from loving the creature.
Eventually, the stench of blood clinging to Ike’s clothing got to him. He peeled off the overcoat that was stained red with Kiona’s blood and balled it up. He had no intentions of using their bath when there was a perfectly good river to wash in, but he found himself growing impatient with how long it was taking Wolfgang to return with water for Kiona. By the time the man returned, Ike eyed him judgmentally as he struggled with the buckets, his initial assumptions confirmed about the nobleman. However, his attention was quickly drawn to the sound of bounding paws as Hound lumbered into the house. The dog finally lifted his nose from the ground at the sight of Ike and barreled toward him, rearing up on his back legs so that he could bombard his master with licks to the face. For once, Ike accepted the display of affection, scratching at Hound’s long, floppy ears, “Good dog.”
Once Trys had served food and Wolfgang had finished filling the bath, Ike finally slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. His appetite was lacking with the knowledge that Kiona needed to eat far more than he did, so he preoccupied himself with watching Wolfgang as the man retrieved what had to be an overtly expensive bottle of liquor. He grunted his rejection and continued to eye Wolfgang with disapproval as he poured himself a drink. The last thing Kiona needed was a mentor that was a drunk.
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Post by starrea on Jan 23, 2021 1:51:29 GMT
Wolfgang. The stranger had a name - and before Kiona could think better of it, a chuckle escaped her. Had his parents named him that with the knowledge of what he was, or had it been an ironic twist of fate? Either way, she found it oddly hilarious and had to stifle the rest of her laughter. Knowing his name only strengthened the magnetic pull he had over her, and her eyes followed him as he left the building. He was far older than anyone she had ever been interested in before, but no one had ever peaked her interest in the way that this man had.
As Sasha led her down the hallway, Kiona couldn't help but cast a fleeting look at Ike over her shoulder before he disappeared from view. To date, she had been under his authority for well over two weeks, and hadn't had more than a moment of privacy away from his watchful gaze. At first glance, they were bitter enemies; bounty hunter and fleeing criminal, but there was something more between them. The lines were blurring and instead of killing her, Ike had saved her. Instead of dragging her back north, he was traveling south with her. Instead of not caring, he routinely made sure she had food and water.
Ike's hesitation to kill her was not lost to her. She found a sense of safety in his obvious reluctance to outright hurt her, and it made it easier for her stew in her disgust for his reproachful lack of commitment to his job and empire. He was a sad representative of her people; if the roles had been reversed, Kiona wouldn't have hesitated in burying the blade in the side of his neck. At the same time, she couldn't justly fault him for sparing her thus far. His faults benefited her, and they were the only reason she was still alive. It was hard to hate someone for lacking traits that if present, would undoubtedly result in her untimely demise. There were plenty of other reasons to hate him, though. His allegiances still laid with the same traitorous group that had massacred her family, and his very intrusion on her life was an extension of their wants. He had chased her out of her home and her country, and he had stolen her freedom. Just because he had yet to hurt her meant nothing, especially when Ike refused to say what the endgame was. In the end, she was a mark and he was a bounty hunter and he owed her nothing. But out of everything that she hated about Ike, she hated how he controlled her life down the truths he forced her accept the most. Without any regard to her grief, he forced her to shoulder the weight of an enormous truth she hadn't wanted to face, and then left her to struggle by herself. Now, he had saved her, and while most of her was relieved that her attempt hadn't worked, another part of her seethed at the notion that Ike had once again stripped away her control.
But Kiona would be lying if she tried to say that there had just been hate between her and her traveling companions. Underneath all of her anger, she was still just a teenage girl who had lost her entire family. Under Ike's constantly watchful eye and Trys' attempts to make her comfortable, it was hard not to be reminded of her parents. The reminders often triggered bouts of quiet depression, hating herself for wanting the comfort and forcing herself not to let her grief shift her perspective of them into anything other than what they were; a bounty hunter and a stranger. They were not her parents, and no amount of tears or wishes would bring them back.
For the first time in nearly two weeks, Ike wasn't watching her. The invisible chain that bound her to him snapped, and Kiona felt lighter. Her mind, drained from her emotional outburst, struggled with this piece of newfound freedom. As an involuntary member of their traveling party, it was only natural that her first instincts urged her to run. Ike and Trys were otherwise occupied, distracted, in the kitchen and it would give her a solid head start. Remorsefully, she extinguished the idea just as quickly as it had flared up. Not only was she exhausted and ill-prepared to outrun Ike, but the thought of leaving made her stomach twist uncomfortably. She was too exhausted to fight, too weak to run. There were no easy choices, and Kiona was tired of choosing the wrong answer to impossible questions. Guilt swirled in her stomach; was it giving in to idly stay when she had a possible chance to escape? Did that mean she was accepting whatever fate Ike had planned for her?
A knock at the door startled Kiona out of her thoughts. If the other woman had tried to talk to her, Kiona had disappeared too far into her head to even notice. She realized that she still didn't know the woman's name, but was too despondent to care about her lack of manners. The idea of a bath hadn't thrilled her, but now that she looked down at the dried blood that coated her hands, she was anxious to wash herself. She opened the door, her eyes catching a fleeting look of Wolfgang's retreating figure before he rounded a corner and was out of sight. Her heart twisted uncomfortably, leaving her unsure of why she wanted his attention but was evidently sore that she wasn't getting it. It took a second for the sting of the grievance to fade, but the sight of the bathwater distracted her. A dresser stopped Kiona just before she left the room, and she gravitated towards it. She opened one of the drawers, rifling through some men's clothes until her fingers stopped on a thick, long sleeve shirt. For some insane reason, the very touch of the long-sleeve acted as a pacifier and without thinking, she pulled it out of the dresser. A drawer below had an old pair of sweat pants that resonated with her in a similar way and with the clean clothes clutched tightly in her hands, Kiona followed Sasha into the washroom.
The tub was another reminder of her fall from luxury. It was small, metal, and Kiona didn't have to dip her fingers in to guess that the water was unheated. It only took a second look at the blood staining her skin to get her moving again, and she quickly let the clothes fall to the floor with little regard to Sasha's presence. Now disrobed, Kiona saw just how much blood her clothes had hidden. Stains of red trailed up her arms and down her chest and torso. Smudges of red descended further down her legs in streaks, and when she lifted a hand to shake her hair free of the braid it was in, it was sticky and stiff with blood. Her stomach flipped and memories of her family's slaughter resurfaced, and the blood didn't feel like hers anymore - it felt like theirs. "Don't... don't touch me," Kiona murmured, acknowledging Sasha for the first time. The idea of being touched by anyone was nauseating, and she felt the strong need to scrub the blood off herself, "I just.. I can wash myself," She added softly.
Kiona dropped herself into the tub, letting the icy water shock her system. Immediately, her hands set to work scrubbing the red off of her. The more she scrubbed, the more obsessive the desire to be clean became. By the time she finished, the clear river water was cloudy red and Kiona's skin was numb and her teeth were chattering. She wanted to stay longer, but eventually the cold became too intolerable and she slowly stood, stepping out. Her teeth chattered as she dressed herself, but the cold clung to her even after she was swallowed by the large long-sleeve and sweats.
Kiona stopped at the end of the hallway, eyes drawn to the bloody mess she had left on the couch before she looked towards Ike and Wolfgang. The clothes she had found were large, the sleeves hiding her hands and the ends of the sweatpants dragging on the ground. It was almost hard to tell that underneath the baggy clothes, her body still shook from the icy water. Once again, she felt compelled to say something but didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell Ike she wanted to go home, but he wouldn't bring her back to the life she remembered.
"I'm sorry about the mess..." Kiona finally murmured, looking down. Her father hated it when she broke eye contact, but she couldn't bring herself to look at either Ike or Wolfgang at the moment, "And I'm sorry I didn't ask if it was okay to borrow these clothes. Mine are... ruined." Before she let herself get anymore disappointed than she already was, she reminded herself that anything was unlikely to change - all that changed was that Kiona knew, without a doubt, that she was the reason that her entire family got killed.
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Post by Elvander on Jan 25, 2021 23:50:19 GMT
Sasha remained quiet as it all unfolded- Wolfgang filling the tub as she tried to hide her amusement, and even when Kiona laughed at his name. She wanted to join in because the girl was right- it was ironic. But she didn't. She sat quietly in the corner of the bathing room as Kiona washed. The girl was clearly unaware that she was blind, and couldn't see her. Sasha could feel the girl's chaotic energy and thoughts as she sorted through whatever she had been through. But she could also feel positive emotions beneath it all, which was reassuring. As Kiona dressed, Sasha had returned to the group and settled sought out Wolfgang's presence, lingering close to him for feelings of safety and comfort. With all the excitement dying down, it wasn't lost on Sasha that she was vulnerable, that they were on the run, and these were strangers.
"I'll gave a drink," she answered gruffly and waited for him to pour her one- a subtle sign of trust and reliance. Usually, Sasha was adamant about doing every little task herself, to prove to everyone that she was capable, despite her disability. But she had grown so close to Wolfgang, she knew he wouldn't see her request as a weakness. She felt a deep trust with him- she could rely on him in a way she had never been able to do with anyone before. And she wanted everyone in the room to know that Wolfgang was /hers/ in some way. Sasha had been a solitary woman for a very long time- and now she was attached to a man with a magnetic personality whom many adored. She felt deep, insistent fear that she may one day lose him despite her best efforts.
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Trys knelt as Hound bounded in and scratched his ears, warming him up with vigorous patting. She noticed as Artemis approach, feeling wary, but relaxed as the wolfhound licked the top of Hound's head, accepting him. "Nothing for me, thanks," she responded to Wolfgang's invitation, noting the disapproval in Ike's eyes. She straightened up as Kiona and Sasha returned, wringing her hands. "The bath looks like it did you good," she offered up, smiling a little. Well. Now that the crisis was over... what was there left to do but talk? Most likely Wolfgang and Kiona would need to get to know each other, but she was picking up from Sasha that the woman felt insecure about that. And what would she and Ike choose to do if Kiona was going to form a pack with their hosts?
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Post by Val on Feb 2, 2021 0:44:13 GMT
The repetitive sound of leather against wood filled the small kitchen as Ike tapped his foot impatiently beneath the table. His discomfort was obvious, and his eyes continued to flit toward the hallway, waiting for Kiona to emerge. He felt as though he were a sitting duck in a wolf’s den, quite literally, and his instincts were telling him to leave the stuffy cabin as soon as possible. Trys’ rejection of a drink managed to quell his nerves enough for him to still his foot, and he looked up at her as though he was suddenly reminded of his interest in the woman. Their connection had been instantaneous from the beginning, but things had become far too complicated to address something as unimportant as feelings. Now, though, he felt that familiar sense of attraction stir within him.
Ike’s attention was drawn to the dogs as they approached each other. As expected, Hound wagged his tail vigorously as the wolfhound approached, seeking acceptance from the older canine. As soon as it was given, Hound returned the favor with several slobbering licks to the face, dipping into a play bow that would more than likely be ignored by the dignified guide dog. Ike had been told more than once that Hound was the only approachable thing about him, and he always begrudgingly agreed to that sentiment.
Before long, the healer reappeared, prompting him to sit up straight. Ignoring their two hosts, he craned his neck to stare down the hallway until Kiona finally emerged. To his surprise, she appeared healthier than he’d ever seen her. Considering that he’d only witnessed the princess after weeks on the run compounded with her refusal to accept any help, it made sense that a bath would do her wonders. But after witnessing her on the brink of death, it was eerie to see that she was fully healed and cognizant due to the healer’s mysterious abilities.
He followed her gaze toward the blood-soaked couch and was reminded that he, too, still bore the memory of the incident. By the time the apology had left her lips, Ike was on his feet. He crossed the room and gripped the side of the couch, lifting one end of it with ease. He dragged the piece of furniture noisily across the room, kicked the door open, and yanked the couch through the threshold. With a grunt of effort, he toppled the bloody memory over the front steps where it landed in front of the house with a thud.
Ike reentered the house casually and dusted his hands off, regarding the group with a level stare, “I’ll be down by the creek,” he announced. He needed to bathe and separate himself from the group so that he could get a plan in order. His gaze lingered on Trys and, although he didn’t address her directly, the look acted as an invitation to follow. He figured he owed her an explanation for his turbulent decision making, and to offer her an out from what had turned into an unexpected quest that revolved around the werewolf princess.
His attention returned to Kiona, giving her and her ill-fitting clothing a once over, “You should eat. And rest,” he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument. He didn’t care how good the healer was; he didn’t believe that magic was a cure-all for what she’d been through. He paused, eyes flashing briefly toward Wolfgang in warning, “Yell if you need me,” he told Kiona pointedly.
“Hound,” Ike called his dog before turning and exiting the cabin. He lumbered toward the nearby creek with Hound at his heels, only stopping when the toes of his boots hit the water. He knelt down and cupped his hands beneath the icy water, splashing the water against his face in an attempt to gain clarity over what he’d gotten himself into.
The whiskey bottle lingered over the empty glasses that Wolfgang had set on the table, as though he hadn’t expected both of his guests to reject a drink. After a moment, he placed the bottle down with a shrug, “Suit yourselves,” he mused, knocking the dark liquor back in one swig. Warmth instantly spread through his chest and beyond, thawing his chilled bones and soothing his aching muscles. Transitioning into the wolf always took a toll on his body, but it seemed the more frequently it happened, the faster he recovered. He poured himself another drink as he debated how to break the ice with the two foreigners when Sasha saved the day.
Grinning, Wolfgang poured her a drink and pushed the glass into her hands, not thinking twice about the gravity of her trust in him. Sasha was far more capable than he was, and she’d proven that a hundred times over. But if there was one thing Wolfgang could do better, it was pour a drink. He clinked their glasses and raised his, admiring the woman whom he could only imagine had saved countless lives over the course of her career, “Cheers. To your incredible talent and kind heart,” he toasted before tipping the glass to his lips.
He sensed her before he saw her. Even through the potent aroma of whiskey that filled his nostrils, he could feel a shift in the room the moment Kiona stepped out into the hallway. Wolfgang quickly swallowed the burning liquor and turned to face the mysterious girl as she appeared, clean and donning a familiar set of clothing. They were clothes he’d worn as a young man- the sweater hand knit by his grandmother what seemed like a lifetime ago. It had been one of his most comforting pieces of clothing, but his parents always insisted he leave it up north, since they had no need for such clothes back home. Now, he was glad it had been left here for Kiona to find.
“No need to apologize,” he insisted gently, dipping his head as though addressing a highborn lady, “Please, take what you ne-“ he attempted to continue but was cut off by the cringe inducing sound of wood scraping wood. He turned to watch dumbfoundedly as Ike dragged the ruined couch outside with minimal effort and dumped it in the yard. Although the furniture was antique, he didn’t object. It needed to be done, and he sure as hell did not want to do it himself. He nodded his thanks when the man returned, but Ike’s attention was focused on the girl who was subtly shivering beside him. Wolfgang had yet to figure out the dynamic between the three strangers, and each interaction only left him more confused.
Wolfgang waited until Ike and his companion exited the house before he turned his attention back to the others. “Hound,” he repeated, lips twitching with amusement as though he were unaware of how ironic his own name was, “Creative guy, eh?” Perhaps his teasing stemmed from Ike’s obvious distrust of him, or the incessant need to lighten the mood. Either way, Wolfgang was glad that much of the tension seemed to leave with the other man. He rounded the kitchen table and faced Sasha and Kiona, his eyes lingering on the latter inquisitively. It was difficult for Wolfgang to restrain himself from bombarding the girl with questions right then and there, but he managed to stifle his curiosity for her sake. When she was ready, he hoped she would open up on her own.
“Keep the sweater,” he insisted, nodding at Kiona, “It suits you.” It did, but he could sense that she was still cold beneath the baggy clothing. He reached for the whiskey and refilled his and Sasha’s glasses and hesitated before pouring a third, smaller glass. “This will warm you up,” he mentioned off-handedly, nudging the glass in Kiona’s direction with a subtle wink. He’d never seen the point in withholding alcohol from young people, and the girl needed it after what he could only imagine she’d been through, but he had a feeling her uptight companions wouldn’t approve. “It also seems that Sasha has prepared food for us. Help yourself,” he nodded toward the soup and fresh bread, but made no move toward the food himself. Instead, he raised his drink to his lips and sipped, intense eyes observing Kiona over the rim of his glass. The answer to his prayers now stood across the table from him, but he found himself less concerned with satisfying the unanswered questions he’d been plagued with his entire life, and more concerned with the girl herself.
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Post by starrea on Feb 7, 2021 1:55:08 GMT
Ike was her unlikely hero; the sound of the couch scraping across the floor grabbed everyone's attention, shifting their focus off of Kiona. Without everyone's prying eyes, she was finally able to take a deep breath and step into the room, watching as Ike discarded the couch out the front door. His motives were increasingly mysterious these days, and his ambiguous allegiances was only fueling the unhealthy paranoia that governed her. It was dangerous to think that Ike removed the couch for any other reason than it was unsanitary and disgusting - nothing to do with the way it had immediately upset her. He didn't care about her - but when Ike turned around and walked out the door, Kiona had to stop herself from calling out for him. He was her enemy, but it was getting harder and harder to remember that.
Ike's absence was profound. Being out of his line of sight for the duration of the bath had offered her a refreshing taste of liberty, but his complete removal from the house was distressing. His leave was proof of some sort of newfound trust in her, whether it be because he believed her too exhausted to act or perhaps had already forged allegiances with their hosts, but his faith in her was misplaced and she was angry that he thrust the responsibility of her compliance onto her own shoulders. For the time being, she had grown complacent in the way things were between them; as long as she cooperated, Ike was humane enough to not make her captivity overtly obvious. But that's exactly what it was - imprisonment. She wasn't here by choice. Without Ike's watchful to ensure her cooperation, it felt inherently wrong to abide by his rules. The girl she used to be was fading before her eyes; three weeks ago, she wouldn't have even waited until Ike was out the door before screaming for help but now, in his absence, she hesitated. It was in the very nature of their dysfunctional relationship for Kiona to rebel against whatever Ike wanted of her and to cooperate of her own free volition felt synonymous with giving up. But she was exhausted, too tired to keep losing at whatever game she was playing with Ike. He had proven several times over that he knew her better than she knew herself, and that she would never get far. Tears pricked her eyes as she stared at the empty doorway that Ike had disappeared through, fuming at how apparently obvious it was that she would sit and stay.
Wolfgang's voice cut through the frenzy of anxious thoughts and she hurriedly wiped the tears out of her eyes before she turned around to face her hosts. Her skin was free of the violence she had tried to inflict upon it, but her body felt slower and heavier than it had before. The cold bath hadn't helped, and her limbs were startlingly slow to respond to commands of motion. She slid into one of the empty chairs, feeling the stifling awkwardness fill the room, but there was nothing to say. They were nothing more than three strangers sitting together in a room after she had very obviously tried to kill herself.
Kiona's first instinct was to despise Wolfgang. Looking at him, it was easy to forget what he was. He was older her usual type, but she wasn't so daft as to deny the chemistry between them. They hadn't so much as touched and yet he had the power to make her squirm with a single look. He was magnetic; no matter where she looked or what she thought about, everything seemed to always circle back to Wolfgang. He was different from most of the men back in her home country. His stature was tall and lean, lacking the usual build that came with heavy physical labor and combat fighting, but he managed to make it look good. She noticed things about him that she ignored in others; the way he smelled like cedar wood and whiskey, and the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He had an unusual intensity about him, one that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Every time she looked at him, she got the distinct feeling that she was just catching a glimpse of the surface of this man, and that there were uncharted depths beneath. But he was a monster, a creature that Kiona had been taught to hate. His beauty was just another tactic, another element to foster a sense of security before it raved and rampaged. But it was also easy to forget that she bore the same curse as he did - and whatever hatred she applied to him, she also owned.
It wasn't hard to miss the closeness between Wolfgang and Sasha, but something peculiar happened when he reached over to refill her glass. It didn't last more than a moment, but for a brief second, his hand brushed up against Sasha's. A hot flash of jealousy burned through her, turning her thoughts murderous at the thought of something more than friendship between the two. Her hands, protected by the enormous sleeves, clenched into fists and she dug her nails into her palm and bit down on her tongue, relishing in the pain to ground her from the sudden onslaught of uncharacteristic jealousy. She was feeling increasingly disconnected from her own body, and as time marched on, it was becoming more and more evident that she didn't know herself, and she was rapidly losing control over herself. When the heat of jealousy had ebbed away, embarrassment and shame were quick to replace it and they cloaked her, weighing her down and sinking her further into the depths of her depression.
The offer of alcohol couldn't have come at a better moment, but Kiona paused. The idea of getting wasted was dangerously tempting, and she wanted nothing more than to look for all of her answers at the bottom of that bottle of whiskey, but she couldn't shake the apprehension. She had already watched one good Samaritan turn against her, and who knew what Ike told Wolfgang while she was bathing. It was baffling to think that he trusted her to stay put, but it made more sense when she rationalized that he had recruited Wolfgang into whatever plot he had planned. They hadn't discussed the plan beyond arriving where ever it was they were taking her, and the ambiguous nature of her future was hard to think about without losing herself to another throw of panic. After this, Kiona had no idea what Ike planned to do with her, but she doubted that he was going to let them amicably part ways. The offer, however mundane, felt like a trap and Kiona looked around, half expecting Ike to appear and admonish her. Even when he didn't, the sense of foreboding stayed. She shook her head slowly, "No, thank you though," She murmured politely, lowering her gaze. It was easier to remember that she couldn't trust them when she wasn't losing herself in all the small, hypnotizing details that made up Wolfgang.
Food, however, she couldn't ignore. She looked between both of them and the food, asking for silent permission before she hesitantly got up to serve herself. For the sake of her nerves, she only grabbed a piece of bread and returned to her chair, looking between both Wolfgang and Sasha before nibbling on it. Despite being hungry, the food felt heavy in her stomach and she worked on it slowly.
It felt wrong to accept Wolfgang's sweater, especially when she had essentially bled all over his house, but she didn't have any other choice. She didn't have any other clothes to change into. "I'll pay you back," She offered, acutely aware that she didn't have anything to pay him with. She wanted to assure him that she wouldn't be a burden any longer, but truthfully, she hadn't the slightest clue what Ike planned to do. Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she folded in on herself, feeling small. "I'm sure when he comes back, we'll... find somewhere else to stay. I... I don't know if they told you my name. But I'm Kiona," And against her better judgment, she held her hand out for Wolfgang to shake.
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Post by Elvander on Feb 8, 2021 21:02:30 GMT
Sasha heard the scraping of the couch against the floor and it made he wince, but she didn't object. No doubt it was stained with blood and would be a blotch on the room anyway. With two of the three strangers gone, Sasha was left to feel the connection between Wolfgang and Kiona. She wondered what it was- it felt magnetic. She sipped her drink, shocked that all three of their guests had turned it down. That wasn't a usual occurrence in these lands. But she busied herself serving herself and Wolfgang a bowl of soup, and Artemis bumped against her legs now and then to guide her, since Hound had followed Ike and Trys outside.
"Don't worry about paying us back, Kiona. You are our guests, as are you traveling companions." Sasha situated herself at Wolfgang's side again, drawing comfort from him at this odd time. She remained silent, allowing Wolfgang to take the lead.
--
Trys seemed oblivious to the way Ike was suddenly looking at her, watching as the dogs interacted, and watching Kiona as well. She was relived to see the girl had bathed, and was in good hands. And she was relieved when Ike gave her an out for the moment. Trys was friendly, but she was tired and feeling overwhelmed by the events and the people. She followed him outside without hesitation, breathing in the crisp air. Trys watched as Ike knelt at the creek and leaned against a tree, crossing her arms over her chest. "You okay?" she asked softly. She didn't expect him to answer honestly about his feelings- Ike was the type with few words, but she asked anyway. He had abandoned his creed, cared for a princess who was a lycan, been attacked by another one, and then had watched Kiona try to die all in the matter of a few days.
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