Crystal stalked through the black forest, her dark ebony fur camouflaging her in the darkness. Her creamy yellow eyes were the only thing visible as she continued through the forest for something to hunt or at least something entertaining. Her ears twitched as she listened to her surroundings and let her tail flick back an forth with anticipation in what she might find in the forest today.
The hood man paced back and forth between a pair of trees. His head was bowed, hands clenched behind his back, a low murmur of words in a foreign language streamed out. His black hooded coat allowed him to blend in with the blackened trees, and his pacing footsteps barely made a sound. Waiting was not something he was used to doing. Especially not from any of his informants, and especially not when he wasn’t in his own city and comfortable with his surroundings. The information he was supposed to be provided with was priceless, according to the M.I.A Cinaed civilian. For the informant’s sake, this information had better be as priceless as the other were thought it was. If not…he’d have to find a replacement that would quickly learn his time was not something to be wasted. Ashes picked up in small puffs around his feet as his pace increased, causing the hems of his pants to ashen, though that was the least of his worries. Feelings of vulnerability only worsened his mood. Perhaps he should have a new rule put in place that all informants had to come to him instead? Something like that would jeopardize some informants he had carefully placed.
The large feline noticed something out of the corner of her eyes and raised a brow curiously. Who would be out in the black forest other than a shifter? Though as she took in some of the ashy air, what she smelt was not shifter but not one of Cinaed. She silently padded towards the figure, kicking up some ash beneath her paws. Though as she got closer to the form she shifted back into her human form, hiding behind a nearby tree. She glanced around the tree and watched the hooded figure with a raised brow. He certainly wasn't one she had seen before.
The hooded man’s pacing slowed before he came to a halt completely. He had been slightly hunched over as he had paced, but now he straightened to his full height in order to gaze at the forest around him. It was possible that he had been so deep in his thoughts that he had not heard the approach of another, but the tingling down his spine and the churning in his stomach rarely ever was wrong. He was being watched. Whether or not the one gazing at him meant him any harm he didn’t know, though he so far had yet to meet one that didn’t mean to spy on him or kill him. Either way, he despised being watched. He slipped his hands into his pockets, slowly wrapping his fingers around the dagger hilts. Turning away, he walked on, not about to stand and wait around while there was someone watching him. It wouldn’t have been his informant. They would have come forward and spoken to him instead of lurking behind the black trees. It wouldn’t have surprised him if his informant had been killed and he was currently being watched by some hit man. It has happened before and it wouldn’t be the last time either.
Did a fight always have to end in so much blood shed, ruin and death? Did the death toll have to consist of the young? It was one thing for warriors to die. Warfare and death were two things they knew their paths would lead to, one way or another. The young ones are unsuspecting of death, even to the point of ignorance. Death was not something any young one planned for, however it happened all the same and it was a surprise when it occurred. The rough coated dog padded through the black forest, white fur sharply contrasting against the blackened ashy trees. Several feet behind, a black cat slunk in the shadows, leaping and ducking over and under fallen logs. “Oma, you need to stop feeling sorry for the young ones that die. That one in particular, deserved it.” “No one really deserved to be killed like that.” “Truly? I can think of many more deaths that are far worse. I know why you think this one is just as worse as the rest. It’s because this one was killed by it’s brother, yes?” “Why are you here, Akuji?” The dog turned to face the cat, watching it sit on stump primly, paws together and tail flickering slightly in front of it. “Why do you think?” “To stop me, to talk me out of it, and to add sense as you often put it. It’s the only reason you find me.” “I’m here to remind you once again, that every choice has consequences, even ours.” “He was young, and he should have lived for many more years still.” “That’s what you say for every one of them that die in some form of tragic death. They could be in their sixties and you’d still call them young. Do I also have to remind you of the balance we strive to maintain? You bring them back and I have to take another to replace them. Too many returning and not staying dead will ruin that balance. Then drastic measures will have to be taken to reduce their numbers.” “It’s just one! It’s not like I plan on bringing all of them back, and you know that.” The dog growled lowly, fur bristling before it turned and continued on it’s way. “I know it’s just one. However, one here, another tomorrow….you can see how this will add up. Besides it’s age and how it died, I don’t see why you would waste your time bringing it back. What makes it a better choice than the rest laying here?” “I’m not doing this just for him,” Oma grew silent as the blue weredragon came in sight. Approaching slowly, the spirit raised a forepaw, and rested it on the cold dark blue scales. “It’s for his brothers and sister too.” “And for yourself.” “Are you going to retrieve his soul for me now, or are you going to keep talking?” “No.” “No, what?” “I’m not going to stop talking.” “So you are refusing to help me? Why? Are you doing this to punish me because I’m ignoring the balance?” “I suppose that could partly be it, but the other part is because I am trying to help you, Oma.” “I don’t see how this is going to help me!” The dog snarled, turning to face the black cat. “I didn’t think you would. I know you don’t listen to me. You haven’t years ago and that’s not going to change any year soon. I hope that refusing to help now you’ll see and feel the consequences of your actions.” The cat stared down at the dog, from on top of it’s perch on another dead weredragon, it’s tail lashing back and forth. “You’ll have to deal with the pain of it’s brothers then too. Perhaps then you’ll listen to me and this will come to an end.” “Everything has to come to an end with you, doesn’t it? You’re not happy unless there’s a heap of dead beneath you!” “You need to stop thinking of me as the enemy. I am not your enemy. Without life there cannot be death and without death there cannot be any more new life. You know this.” The white hound turned away from the cat to go back to looking down at the blue weredragon. Oma hadn’t known Akuji to lie, but could this be the first time? Wouldn’t they be happy to have their brother alive again? Who was it that Akuji would claim if he brought the weredragon back? Why would Akuji have to kill anyone if the boy’s soul wasn’t even being returned? Oma didn’t know how much time had passed while it thought everything over, but when it looked back in the direction Akuji had been, the black cat was gone. Oma had made up it’s mind, and decided to bring Lorcan back. The boy was the right Draeyva to bring back. Yes, the rest of the Draeyva’s loved their mother deeply and she would seem like the ideal Were to bring back for them, but why should she return when one of her children barely lived at all? Being kept in a cage underground for most of his life stole whatever life the young weredragon might have otherwise lived. The spirit was certain Isis would have wanted one of her children being brought back over herself. Stepping away from the dead dragon, the dog padded towards the weredragon’s head. Gently pawing the dragon’s muzzle open, it stuck it’s white muzzle inside once there was a big enough gap. Inhaling, the dog exhaled one large breath into the dragon. Taking out the dog’s muzzle, the spirit waited, watched and listened. Thump Thump, thump The dragon’s side moved up and down slowly, and with a wag of the dog’s tail the spirit stepped around the weredragon’s head and towards his neck. The wounds on the dragon’s neck had long since clotted and stopped bleeding, but the dog licked at them all the same, speeding the healing process. Once the wounds on his neck healed, the spirit stepped away and cast an eye over the Were from muzzle tip to the end of his tail spike. The blue dragon was breathing evenly, and looked as if he was sleeping. “Lorcan, wake up.” The spirit begun to grow worried when it didn’t see any movement from the Were, however the dog jumped when it saw blue glowing eyes locked on it. For a moment the spirit thought that Akuji had been speaking the truth, and that perhaps bringing them back to life would be possible but they would not be able to wake up. The weredragon pushed himself up onto all fours, before sitting back on his haunches. His form wobbled and he lost his balance, falling onto his other side. “You should wait before trying to get up again so you won’t get dizzy.” The dog padded over to the dragon, glowing eyes on it the whole time. The spirit waited, but Lorcan didn’t say anything. This was the time they usually asked all the questions. What was happening? Were they dreaming? Who or what the dog was? The list could go on and on, but this had to have been the first time that there weren’t any questions being asked. There hadn’t been a screech of agony, no frantic movements as if continuing on from the moment of his death. The weredragon was too calm. “Are you well? Are you in any pain?” Perhaps something went wrong? Maybe there was some internal damage done that hadn’t been healed? What if this was what Akuji had been referring to? Did the other spirit know what would have happened to the weredragon if he was brought back without his soul? Had Akuji simply guessed that there would be a negative outcome? The dog whined, tail partly tucking. Listening to Akuji would have been wise. Trying to use reason over the emotions of the living and those it itself felt, would have been a better course of action. Now that this had been done, what was there to do? Figure out what was wrong with the weredragon and try to fix him? Oma had known the type of personality this Draeyva had been his untimely death, and this was nothing like it. Padding away, the dog sniffed at the ground absentmindedly, the smell of blood, guts and other bodily fluids were slightly distracting. At the sound of movement behind it, the dog turned around quickly and saw the dragon was following after him, stopping just a few feet away from him. Moving again, the dragon followed. Without speaking to the weredragon again, Oma lead Lorcan out of the field of death.