The ounce of disappointment Ama felt was but a distant memory when Vandal reappeared, bearing news that he'd found something. Scooping up her dagger, she sprang to her feet and followed her new friend as he lead her around the house and up some stairs.
"What is it? What have you found?"
The demon girl couldn't keep the excitement from her voice. It was probably out of the question that Vandal had found food, but it would have been nice.
Vandal only nodded, with a smug grin on his face. There was one room up here... well it wasn't much of a room, structurally speaking. But it did have a dry pile of what may have been hay and a ratty mattress, accompanied by a blanket and even A PILLOW.
He was obviously, quite impressed with his find. The bedding however, was not what you might consider 'large'.
"All yours. I'll just make sure the doors are locked behind us, yeah?"
He was still quite enthusiastic about his find. Odd, as he had no intention of taking it for himself and forcing her to sleep elsewhere.
Ama's eyes fell upon the bits and pieces of "bedding" and instantly lit up. But it was the look on Vandal's face that warmed her heart and spirits the most. His sense of achievement in finding these things was clear to her. She couldn't help but give him a short, victorious hug.
The young demoness slipped her dagger back into her belt, then - with almost a spring her step - went over to arrange the "bed". It was dry, at least, and didn't smell as bad as she thought it might. Win, win. But there was one thing wrong here...
Ama picked up the pillow...and launched it at Vandal's head. She laughed.
"Now, I appreciate you trying to be a gentleman and all, but I'm not the type of gal that needs to feel pampered and looked after." She bundled up the blanket and held it out to him. "You can have this, too."
Ramir deliberately let out an 'OOF' as the pillow came quite close to smacking him in the face. He patted the dust off of it and shook his head in refusal of the blanket.
"I wouldn't be a gentleman if I accepted." (Smirk.)
He stretched a little and covered a yawn, smacking his lips. Scratching at his mop of hair atop his head, he nodded in acknowledgement before retreating from sight.
Ama pulled the bundled-up blanket close to her chest. Although she had said she didn't need taking care of it was nice to have someone there, looking out for her. Friendship was its own reward.
As Vandal went to check the doors, the young demoness tended to her sleeping spot, like a mother bird to her nest. A wave of weariness washed over her and Ama realized how exhausted she had become. It was a good thing she had found somewhere to settle, if only for a few days.
Ama kicked off her boots and placed them beside her bed, along with her dagger and the letter she kept in her pocket. She had to remember to deliver that soon; it wasn't super urgent but it needed to be done sooner rather than later. Also, the parchment was showing signs of becoming worn and creased.
She yawned as she got comfortable - or as comfortable as one could curled up on a ratty mattress and beneath a slightly itchy blanket.
Vandal wasn't back yet and, as she unwillingly closed her eyes, Ama sleepily wondered if he was going be okay with just the pillow...and if he wouldn't mind her calling him Van...she liked giving people nicknames......
Ramir was happy with his check on their chosen warren for the evening. He silently made his way back to the doorway and smiled as she drifted off to sleep. Surely, he should find somewhere to get comfortable. That shouldn't be very hard, given that childhood he spoke of. The storm outside was pleasant for Ramir and the lightworks always filled him with some wonderment when his life was not in peril due to it.
Ah well, sleep beckoned...
The thunder rolled on with the dazzling and erratic light dancing through the windows and structural gaps of their home for the evening. It may have been the noise, or it may have been simple restlessness, but Ama stirred long enough to see the silhouette standing in the doorway. I'll not tell you how alert she was when slipping from sleep, but surely she would notice that this figure was not Ramir.
No, he'd retired hours before and this person was far, far more sinister. They turned from the doorway and whilst she could not witness their face, the choking feeling eased as their gaze left her.
At first, Ama thought she might be dreaming. The thunder and lightning outside had worked its way into her mind as she'd slept, as external noises often did, so the demoness thought this was merely an extension of her subconscious journey.
Ama stared with bleary eyes at the doorway and the dark figure that stood there. Vandal? No...it wasn't him. Her chest tightened and she felt as if someone had a hand wrapped around her throat. She wanted to call out but the words wouldn't come, they were locked behind her lips and she didn't possess the key. Van...?
The sheet that covered her was prickly against her skin, stirring the possibility that this was more than just a dream. Ama's forehead was damp and her hands clammy with sweat as she tried to reach out into the darkness for her weapon. But the sinister trespasser was already moving away and the young woman found herself once again able to catch her breath.
"Van...?" She whispered, hoping her new friend was close by. It was difficult to see in the darkened space.
Bare-footed, Ama crept quietly towards the doorway, dagger in hand. Who was this intruder? Why were they just standing there, watching? The cool air sent a chill through the demoness' body and goosebumps arose upon her milky-white arms.
Ama discovered where Ramir had been soon enough, as she found him rousing from sleep as she passed through the doorway, It was evident that he'd chosen to curl up on the landing, just outside the room she'd occupied. His attempt at 'guard duty' delivered poor results obviously, given the strange person wandering about freely. Ramir looked as confused as Ama.
"Hey, that.... who was that? Did he say anything?"
Ramir was looking less confused and more bothered now. He'd pulled his coat into place and was looking down the stair well, quite unsettled by someone having the gall to walk right past him.
Ama was also unsettled by the fact that someone had entered the house and, instead of speaking to them or attacking them, merely came and went like an ominous shadow. The young woman brushed a hand through her hair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, before following Vandal down the stairs. Each step was taken with care; purposeful and silent.
"I don't know." She whispered. "He didn't say a word."
Ama placed her free hand upon the wall, steadying herself as they descended the stairs.
"Did you get a good look at him? Could it have been the owner?"
Ramir shook his head and lowered his voice. It would help little, the stairs creaked loud enough to battle the storm with each step.
"Perhaps. But something's not right. I was thinking..."
His words fell from his lips as his foot fell upon the floor and just enough light from outside splashed into the room. The stranger was here.
Perchec, atop a chair - the back of a chair. That alone struck Ramir as oddly disturbing, the stranger was crouched upon it without any apparent effort, when the chair should topple beneath him.
Something occurred to Ramir and he grimaced, angrily, He turned his body and took a step into the room, his head low and and his hands pawing at the air.
"So, the pup is awake. I have to say pup, your newly acquired friend reminds me of someone I knew a very, very long time ago. It's unusual, no?"
Renquist's voice smacked of mockery. He was looking at them both like a predator and nothing about him suggested that he thought they were a challenge. No, it rather felt like he was toying with them.
He slipped from the chair in an inky, rolling heap and then rose to stand tall, lanky, but brimming with some insidious confidence. Nothing about this man was anything other than unsettling.
"Come now, surely you have questions. Best you wake up so that we might see to things."
Ama stared at the intruder - who was somehow defying the laws of physics, perched upon the back of the chair - with a mix of wonder and alarm. From what she could make out of the man, the young woman knew she had never come across him before. She would definitely have remembered.
Then the stranger spoke. His voice was filled with something Ama did not like, and it almost sounded as if he knew Vandal. She wanted to ask her new friend, but the mysterious man rolled from his seating position to stand tall and more ominous before them.
The demoness didn't know whether to fight or fly. In either case, she felt that she couldn't do one or the other; if she ran, it would be a game of dragon and mouse, and if she stood her ground it would result in a quicker death.
Ama's heart was thumping, threatening to burst from her chest. She needed to calm down and focus. Taking a few deep breaths to keep her voice level, Ama moved in a position next to Vandal and slowly lowered her dagger.
Ramir was visibly on edge, his muscles bunched and his back arching forward, his hands now at his sides for whatever weapons he might bring to bear. He swallowed, audibly and then spoke aloud.
"We don't need to know. Ama.... we should run."
The thought was there, but Ramir made no such movement. No, his instincts told him that running would be futile and that whilst the information he had on this monstrosity was no doubt legitimate, fleeing was not going to better their situation.
The question was, what could the hope to do? He was thinking, or trying to make sense of a mess of thoughts. There was nothing tangible, so Ramir latched onto the next thought he had. He grit his teeth, stood up and spoke in a spitting, defiant manner.
Renquist smiled in the most alarming manner an rose an outstretched hand into the moonlight that fell through the window, as though he were admiring his nails. He seemed quite unbothered by Ramir's words and in fact, ignored him entirely. No, he paced sideways, halted and then turned his eyes on Ama to study her for a while. It was odd and uncomfortable and just as it seemed someone had to say something, he did.
"Oh, my name hardly matters. Besides, I have so many and truly, I am tired of them all. I am a benefactor and simply thought to bestow my gifts upon you, before I take my leave. Surely there's no harm in that."
Nothing in his words or his gestures seemed pleasant, or harmless.
Ama felt out of the loop on something, as if she had been reading a book and somehow missed a whole chapter. Clearly, Vandal knew something about this man, and his reaction had her worried. But despite his warning, he didn't try to run.
The young demoness watched the stranger intently. Every move he made made her uneasy, but she found herself unable to look away. Then he looked directly into her eyes and a chill ran right through her. It was like she had downed a jug of ice-cold water.
"Gifts?"
Ama was suspicious, yet curious, like seeing a chest of gold suspended over a pit of vipers.