[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/moAArlo.png[/img][/center] Her silence continued to stick around as she remained at the docks next to Gren. She enjoyed experiencing a lack of conversations sometimes. Sometimes she wanted to know more about becoming more of a social bee like her friends. Little by little, she would learn, and every bit of experience helped her change. But until that day came, she would always come to accept silence as a time to reinforce a calm composure. She was used to growing in silence. A world where words mattered less than her actions had trained her to do so. It was nothing to be proud of, but also nothing to be ashamed of. The man named Gren seemed nicer the more she spent time with him. He offered her a drink, and he didn't mock her for speaking in a rather broken language. And the question he asked her... It sparked something odd within her. Her eyes widened, a peculiar sting poking at her heart and mind as she processed his words. Her missing arm. The one she lost and had to replace with a crude weapon. She remembered, and she remembered well. It was the loss of a part of her body that prompted her to even think of going to Beacon eventually... Normally, it should have made her sad to think of the memory. Something related to the loss of something precious... It should be bad enough to warrant sorrow to wash over her. But it didn't. Instead, she felt more confusion when she tried to understand the events of her past. [hider=A memory][i]The metal of an axe tore through her frail shoulder like butter. Blood splattered the decorative walls of her home. It spread like paint, in a fascinating, yet gruesome fashion. It trickled down the tiny bumps of the tatami floor. Pain warped her mind as she cried out in pain. Yet, her lack of energy in the first place could only let her scream to a small extent. She was not strong like others, and she was not smart either. She only knew that she had to live, and the man who wandered into her home had no intentions of letting her do so. She brought a hand to where her arm used to be, only to feel it fall on a pool of blood. A hazy vision let her put the pieces together- the arm the man attacked was on the other side of the room. It became useless in a matter of seconds. She did not know what the man had in mind for her. She knew the wild could consume her, yet something told her that the man came from something outside of the wilderness. The sheer ferocity in his eyes, and the lust for asserting dominance over his prey told her so. She knew nothing of his actions outside of his attacks thrown out with complete hostility. The words he roared at her, the way his eyes gazed at her body, and the way he grew excited at the sight of her crumpled body. As he tore off what appeared to be his belt, she remained crippled. Confusion filled her mind as he approached her. She wanted to live. But what could she do without an arm to pick herself up with?[/i][/hider] Obviously, she did not rip off her own arm because she wanted to. Someone else had done the deed, and it was someone she still had yet to recognize. [color=f7976a]"..."[/color] Perhaps talking about it with a man who offered her a drink was not an entirely bad idea. Bowing politely, she took the apple cider from Gren. [color=f7976a]"...I... lost my arm... to someone... "A man... much stronger than... me."[/color] Her voice softer than before, she unknowingly brought her shoulders closer to herself as she remembered the less hopeful times of her life. [hider=A memory][i]As he undressed himself, she coughed red as she squirmed beneath him. His legs were over hers, and he whispered something to her- words that she could not understand. He lowered himself as he tore at her clothes, leaving her bare and bleeding body to reveal itself to the cold house. It was cold. Unimaginably cold. Yet, the burning sensation from her shoulder said otherwise. It was too cold.[/i][/hider] [color=f7976a]"I... do not know who, but..."[/color] She looked down at her clothes, her thoughts travelling in the depths of her own mind as she tried to deliver her words to Gren correctly. [color=f7976a]"He... took my... clothes off,"[/color] she said without hesitation, unknowingly speaking more than a few sentences to Gren for the first time. [color=f7976a]"And... he took his own... clothes off. He... was the one who cut my... arm..."[/color] But truthfully, that was not what she found to be noteworthy of the loss of her arm. [color=f7976a]"I was surrounded by... my blood. For the first... time..."[/color] ... ... ... [color=f7976a]"Then... someone I knew little of... helped me."[/color] [hider=A memory][i]She believed in hope. And hope did come, albeit in a rather brutal way. For as soon as the predator on top of her tossed his undergarments aside, something stabbed the man. Two blades pierced his face, one for each eye. And the man did what he was best at doing aside from hurting Sangue- screaming wildly. But this time he screamed in pain rather than frustration. His blood splattered against her cheek, yet she did not bat an eyelash due to how weak her senses had become. Someone else had arrived in her home. Unlike the man who attacked Sangue, it was a guest she had treated to once. A guest who had not attacked her and accepted the pathetic mushrooms she always gathered from the forest.[/i][/hider] [color=f7976a]"My family... left fairy tales... in my home,"[/color] Sangue whispered. [color=f7976a]"Tales of... nice people... "They were... called 'heroes'... "I think... the man who... saved me... is a hero..."[/color] [hider=A memory][i]Red fluids sprayed out of the man who had attacked Sangue as a red-haired hero tore him inside-out. In one swipe of a crooked hand, the hero snatched at the man's throat, spilling its contents all over the tatami floors tainted with Sangue's blood. Another swipe spilled the bowls of the invader on the ground, and yet another swipe quite literally wiped the face of the man off of his head. The hero was triumphant. His face did not resemble anything Sangue had seen in the picture books in her home. They had no words in them, but she knew that heroes tended to smile when they knew they did something right. And she saw the face of her hero as she stared at him in awe. The face... of a hero. [img]https://i.imgur.com/IamCP85.png[/img][/i][/hider] [color=f7976a]"He was... Apoph...is. Apophis. His name was... Apophis."[/color] Saying his name, she smiled warmly. She did not tell Gren of how the man known as Apophis saved her, for the red-haired man told her not to speak of him too much. But still, she at least wanted to tell others of what Apophis had done for her- even if he did not brag about his own strength and feats. [color=f7976a]"He helped me when... I was hurt. "And..."[/color] Glancing at her shoulder, then at Gren, she continued, [color=f7976a]"...he... made the Claw. The... 'Apophis Claw', as he... called it."[/color] [hider=A memory][i]He let me live longer. He made sure I would last without my arm. He spoke of my losses lightly despite doing everything he could do to help. He watched me grow and overcome said losses. And he did it for me, even though he said it was for himself. He said he would never be my friend. And he said he would hurt me if I angered him. Yet, Apophis always helped me on his own accord. Just as if he came straight out of the bloodiest fairy tale in existence. [img]https://i.imgur.com/QjY0rFH.png[/img][/i][/hider] [color=f7976a]"He looked... scary. He... had a lot of scars. Even now, his... looks... never changed. But if it weren't... for him... I would not... be here. If... it weren't for... him, I..."[/color] Her expression grew solemn, yet a small smile quickly replaced it. [color=f7976a]"...wouldn't have... met... the nice people... here..."[/color] [color=f7976a][i]I wouldn't have met Amy... Ben... Lauren... Luke... if he did not fulfill the cliche of a hero.[/i][/color] She fell silent as she stared at Gren for a few good seconds before averting her gaze from him. [color=f7976a]"I-I'm... sorry if... I spoke too much,"[/color] she said quietly as she bowed slightly, her expression becoming much more vulnerable than before as her cheeks heated up. She had never thought about sharing her past with anyone for as long as it did not cross her mind. Now that she actually did, however, she could not help but hope that Gren did not think of her as some oddball. The last thing she wanted was for others to think of her as an annoying huntress. Apophis always told her to try being a "Mary Sue," as he liked to call it. Such people were apparently not too obnoxious as long as they did not stand out too much in a spotlight. Sangue was not perfect, however, so it was only natural for her to know almost nothing of how to be one. [sub][@Lucius Cypher][/sub]