Grayell grinned and leaped over the log, into the river. He didn't need to be stealthy, he needed to stay on her heels. He broke from the water, eyes keen to see her wet prints, establish a direction.
They led to a small clearing with a log cabin in the middle. Smoke came up from the home's chimney. Obviously someone was home. As Gray approached, a voice came down from a tree.
Look familiar?
Liseth sat on a branch in human form, wet and tying a bandage around her neck. She looked down at him imperiously.
How fast do you think I could get in there? How quickly do you think I could slaughter them?
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell stopped. He looked nowhere but to her. His hands were aching, hand ready to draw his blade and end this if need be.
But he didn't want to - her games were vicious but he could not simply end her like that. Human sentiment might be a weakness to some, but it was one of very few things that stopped Grayell being like her. Worse than her.
He remained silent for a moment. He then spoke and spoke low and very, very succinctly.
Very fast. But then I would kill you. Very, very quickly and without qualm. Your quarrel is with me. Unless you have forgotten how vengeful I can be, I would strongly urge you to reconsider.
She shifted, becoming a fox again, leaping to another tree.
You may consider me an animal, Grayell, but I don't kill without reason. However self-deluding it may be. Like your reason. But I digress. She stood in the tree, looking down.
You're very fast. Let's see how fast you are. She leapt down, shifting again, taking off for the cottage. The door was on the opposite side of the house as they were, and she disappeared around the corner of the building.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
(Received GM confirmation on building in case any reader is wondering.)
Grayell cursed as she took off and he too broke into a sprint. He couldn't catch her before she made the door but had to prevent her bringing harm to anyone else.
She was always an impetuous bitch, but this was too much. She was pushing all the right buttons and she knew it - but Grayell didn't have time to consider just how far she would go. He couldn't consider this a bluff, he couldn't take that risk. She was wild, feral and a liability - all of the things that Grayell despised in the Garou.
He didn't make for the corner. He instead ran headlong to the nearest wall and and covered his face with his free arm - leaping to crash and roll through the window closest to him. It would likely scare the shit out of whomever was inside - but he'd rather they be scared and alert than unaware of the predator that came for them.
The family inside screamed and yelled as Grayell barreled in, knocking over their table, sending food flying everywhere. As he recovered, he saw a small red muzzle grinning in the front window. She ducked out of view, her tail the last thing Grayell saw.
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell looked at the family, sword in hand and a burning rage in his eyes. He stepped, shoved the remnants of the table from his path, head looking this way and that. Just like the woods earlier, he expected her from nowhere, from everywhere, though he knew she had ran yet again.
He made for the door but stopped in the frame.
Come to the council hall tomorrow. I'll see you compensated...
He took off running, not waiting for any reply. Where did she go? What would she next do?
He saw a flash of red heading west. As he went on, it became clear she was leading him on, going slowly and letting him catch up. As she went on, the trees became less thick and a low fog started to condense. She was leading him towards the graveyard.
Last Edit: Aug 24, 2011 17:38:59 GMT -5 by Skulldon
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
The fog unsettled him somewhat, but more than that; made him very cautious. It was too good a cover and the graveyard, if it was indeed her destination; were too out of the way for this not to be a real problem.
Grayell slowed his pace. He'd make her wait. He didn't put it past her to have others there, ready to take him down - but it wasn't quite like her.
He growled at the thought. He didn't know her anymore, she made her choice long ago. He was inconsequential to her and her chosen brood and it mattered little. It had to. She was not the same woman he once knew.
He forced himself to think as much. This situation was not what he wanted for her. He'd been a fool to think they would ever reunite on better terms - but he had always pushed away thoughts of a conflict such as this. The man himself would not think it, wouldn't dare allow himself to acknowledge that he still cared for her. She had wounded him in the past and now would only do so again.
He couldn't afford such distractions. Grayell instead drew his sword and that act forced memories from his mind. He focused again on following her.
Be damned you don't. This game get's tiresome Liseth.
Grayell's voice bounced off the headstones, rung out in the cold air. The fog only accentuated the silence, which in turn fueled his caution.
Grayell stepped into the graveyard easy enough. He'd react as fast walking than if he were taking his time, stalking about - and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction or seeing him on edge.
His sword still in hand, Grayell followed through the gate and in the direction of the fleeting shadow. His ears were as keen as his eyes now, this drawn out silence would not last.
The night fell quickly as he walked through the graveyard, following the shadow. Finally he stopped, as the shadow had seemed to flicker around him. In the clearing before him was an angel statue, silhouetted against the light of the moon. Suddenly its arms moved, or appeared to. Liseth was standing just in front of it, in its shadow. She leaned on a stone casket in front of her, her eyes glowing a bit.
You know the best thing about the blood? Your blood? It transmits memories. I remember....everything that blood saw. She grinned. Her teeth glinted in the moonlight.
Would you like to see my favorite memory?
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell stopped. His sword hung in front of him, across his legs. He stood square with her, his shoulders slack. She was up to something - and knowing her it wasn't going to be pleasant.
No. I don't think I would. I have enough memories of my own Liseth. You know that.
He had told her before, confided in her. She had seen him a wrecked man, a mess of a human, lost and alone. But she had also seen his strength, his resolve. Liseth held the unusual ability to taunt him with his own past. But she did so at her own peril, she knew him that well.
She wordlessly, she extended a claw and cut the palm of one hand, dragging it along the surface of the casket, smearing it with a thin layer of blood. She leaned on the casket, grinning as the blood started to smoke. In the smoke, shapes started to form. He saw himself, only he was not himself. The image of Grayell clutched his head and transformed into a snarling beast.
Do you remember? What happened to them?
Of all the graveyards in all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
Grayell's hand damn near snapped his sword. He stepped forward, just once. His chin was almost pressed to his chest and his eyes were lost in the night, but his teeth were bared, glinting in the moon's rays.
