There was a flicker of irritation before the woman's face settled into amusement again.
Don't you wish. I have more than enough of that, thank you. No. She put her hands on her hips.
You've been running for a while. He wants you dead, Grayell, and I intend to bring your blood to him. Unless of course... She turned away, to the animal corpse, kneeling down as if to inspect it.
...you gave any more thought to my offer.
Last Edit: Aug 24, 2011 10:41:51 GMT -5 by Skulldon
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell folded his arms and stepped back to lean against a tree. He knew she was quick, volatile. And he hadn't gotten any younger. His was keener with his blade than in the past though.
She wouldn't let him get to it no doubt.
Ever the faithful lapdog eh? You know, you used to roll over for me.... but then I didn't treat you like a bloody pet.
I won't go without a fight. You know that. Funny thing is - he still hasn't come for me himself, has he? He sends his pack, bumbling about the woods to hunt for me. And none make it home.
What makes you think you'll be any different?
He was bluffing - mostly. His bravado was to throw her off, drag her out of her comfort zone. She'd likely see through it though, she knew him too damn well. He had killed each and every mongrel sent for him. But it got tougher each time it seemed and the injuries added up, took their toll.
But still, to send her.... he was done playing games.
Your offer. Refresh my memory. I recall things differently.
She dipped a clawed hand into the gore, wiggling her fingers about.
He wants you dead...or changed. She brought her fingers up to her face, licking them.
You could become the Source again. Your blood is what we all came from. In a very real sense, you're our father. A second transfusion of the blood he's cultivated, refined, purified, well... She got back up, wiping her hand on her pants.
Who knows what that would do. Something powerful. Volatile. You'd become more powerful than any of us. More powerful than him, even. She grinned. Her canines flashed, but there was a small hint of sincerity in it.
And you'd have me.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell studied her in a forced, un-amused manner. It lasted a silent moment and then he raised an eyebrow and grinned, air huffing out his nose which only showed his displeasure.
He's wrong. So are you. He took it from me and good on him. I don't want it back, no way and no how. There's nothing left. As for him, well....
.... that FLARBER is dead. Take that how you like it, but I WILL repay that son of a bitch for the hell he visited upon me.
Grayell's eyes had grown cold, his jaw was set. The very thought changed him instantly. He rocked forward, off his tree and his arms fell. He stepped closer - and whilst they both knew she was more than capable of handling herself, he looked down on her; an imposing figure.
As for you... well I DID have you. I THOUGHT we meant something.
Grayell looked down. He studied her hand, as savage as it could be. It had been delicate once, she had it in her still he was certain - but not for him. He smiled, shook his head and looked up. His eyes were sincere, if not a bit crazed when he locked his gaze with hers. The smile was real though. He pushed at her hand and leaned in, just a little.
You chose a poor copy of the original babe. Test me and see.
Grayell then shoved, his hand met her gut and forced outward. It wasn't an attack, but an assertion of force - intent on pushing her away as he stepped back, both hands ready for any reaction.
YOU just try me and see. Show me it's just that damned simple Liseth.
You know as well as I do it's not going to be easy. Her voice grew more gravely and severe as she spoke, and there was that sickening organic sound again as she shifted, her claws growing and face seeming to split in half as she walked toward Grayell. He growled, still seeming to grin.
You only got better, but so did I. Let's see if I can't take you by force.
She leapt at him, claws outstretched, aiming for his neck.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Always the neck. Every damn time. Werewolves were hardwired but he knew this was her testing the waters. Still....
Her leap was fast. The distance was damn close. He had but a second to register her attack - which would have been worse had she not announced it.
Grayell dropped instantly, his head dropping and bobbing between his shoulders as she flew in - his left hand covering his face as his right elbow shot up toward her gut. It was a simple defensive maneuver and one he'd used before, normally stunning the diaphragm.
She took the hit, barely flinching as she hit the ground rolling, turning in place and sitting on her haunches for a half second, snarling, before rushing again, her teeth bared, going for Gray's stomach.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell wanted to get in her head, to at least force a lapse in her concentration - not that he could call it that. There was no clarity in the mind of the wolf, it took great control and exertion to willingly do anything. But forcing her to at least think, just for a split second...
She would pounce, they always did. Ram with their weight and put you on your ass in a hurry. The quick kill.
He peddled back, his last step pushing far behind him - before he too sprang, turning on his side in the air. His hand shot down, looking to find her shoulders, twisting and flipping over her attack.
She grinned, snarling, as she feinted away and followed his jump backward, turning lithely in the air and shifting her direction with a kick against the ground from one strong leg, barreling into Gray sideways. She landed on top of him, pinning him, taking the time to laugh.
Good with your hands, horrible at everything else...
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Shit she knew him too well. She also knew he wasn't about to kill her dammit, but that too was the only reason she was gloating rather than trying to tear his face off.
She wasn't as heavy as he was, but heavy enough. No, getting out from under her would only prolong this game and that was not what he wanted. His lips pulled back, a growl in his throat as she held him down and Grayell did what she likely least expected.
You wound me.
The words were a ruse, a toying with her; showing his compliance. Playful almost.
But his arms wound in, clenched hard around her shoulders and yanked her in - at the very moment he leaned up and his mouth snapped hard, teeth looking to lock on her throat. He hadn't the canines to kill but he damn well had the savagery to bite her and the strength to hold her in.
She roared, his teeth catching her and drawing blood, but not a whole lot, not as much as he had intended. She recoiled back in surprise and rage, backing against a tree and glaring.
You're not so different now, Grayell. Not...so different. Let's...let's see how well you remember tracking.
She bolted off, into the treeline. Towards Wistvale.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell got to his feet and smeared the fur and blood from his mouth. He knew how to assert dominance and it got her off of him very quickly. Given the chance, it'd be the back of the neck and he'd pin her damned ass down.
He couldn't keep her pace though. Tracking - well that was no problem, but he knew she had malicious intent. He broke into a sprint, his arm up to cover his eyes as he broke through the lower branches.
Her trail tapered off. He stopped, paused a moment and crouched. Which way.....
Liseth was good, but even she couldn't staunch her own trickle of blood. Grayell could see a trial, very faint, heading over a log and through a river.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.