StarfrostedFox

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

With his gaze regularly skimming over the crowd, William’s eyes had just glanced in the Direction of a digital clock display hanging in the window of one of the nearby establishments when his attention was snatched by the flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye. As he looked, his attention immediately focused on a little girl in a blue and yellow dress, her curls tied back with a yellow ribbon. Each of her hands were occupied by one each of her parents hands, the couple smiling at her and one another as they strategically lifted and lowered her to and from the ground as they walked, all three of them giggling. A pair of boys trailed them, the Younger of the two chatting enthusiastically with his brother about what sounded like a video game they had gotten the opportunity to test. William’s expression softened for a moment, before deepening with sadness an instant before he could pull his stoic mask back into place. With one last glance at the girl and her parents, he forcibly made himself go back to watching the crowd.

And then a powerful smell reached his nostrils, overpowering all others and making him instinctively want to wrinkle his nose or sneeze. Resisting the urge to do either, William had just glanced in the direction that he thought the smell was coming from when a rather neat and orderly looking man stepped up to him and spoke his name in a cool no nonsense voice. Briefly studying the sharp hawk like features, the Blue eyes that resemble chips of ice, he then looked towards the woman at his side, genial smile playing around her lips and Hazel eyes that were so much different than her partner‘s. Because the two had to be partners, if both recognized him. Confirming his suspicions, the sharp man reached into an inner pocket and pulled out an FBI badge, The woman doing likewise a moment later. With this establishment of identity, he finally nodded his head once to confirm his own, responding to the question he had heard when his name had been spoken. Looking from Agent Archer, As the man identified himself, to Agent Turner, a brief hint of amusement glittered in his eyes at her interruption before he hid it once again.

“Simply William will do just fine,” he responded to her in a deep even bass, taking her hand in his own and giving it a firm shake. “Though I agree about the circumstances being less than desirable. Shall we find somewhere to discuss the matter further? Or would you prefer to stay here?“ he directed this last question towards Archer, who’s frigid demeanor might give the impression that he preferred being outside in the middle of winter rather than seek refuge in a store or restaurant.

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

William Grant

Age: 124
Appeared Age: Late twenties, approximately 28
Race: Werewolf
Occupation: Pack strategist and liaison to human authorities

Appearance: William stands just over six feet tall with a lean but powerful build shaped by decades of survival and combat. His shoulders are broad without being bulky, and there is a quiet steadiness to the way he carries himself that makes him seem larger than he actually is. His features are mild and balanced rather than sharply striking, though there is an understated attractiveness to him that tends to linger in people’s minds afterward.

His hair is a light chestnut brown threaded with naturally lighter streaks, worn short enough to remain neat while still showing its pronounced waves. His eyes are typically a pale blue flecked with gold, though when the wolf presses close to the surface those gold flecks become brighter and more noticeable, advancing to take over his entire iris at times. His skin is lightly tanned despite northern winters, and faint freckles dust the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks.

William dresses practically and conservatively. Dark wool coats, fitted sweaters, plain knit pullovers, and other work-appropriate shirts that can be removed quickly dominate his wardrobe, paired with pressed slacks and durable shoes. He avoids restrictive or overly formal clothing whenever possible due to the realities of transformation, preferring outfits that allow freedom of movement while still appearing professional and blending naturally into a crowd.

Wolf's Appearance: William’s wolf form is unusually large even among werewolves, built more like a northern timber wolf than anything natural. His fur is primarily dark ash-gray mixed heavily with black, while his face, forelegs, and tail lighten into pale gray. His eyes are a vivid golden yellow in this form.

His movements as a wolf are unnervingly quiet for his size. Rather than relying on speed alone, he hunts and fights with patience, tactical positioning, and overwhelming force when necessary.

Personality: William is reserved by nature, shaped heavily by grief and age. He keeps most people at arm’s length and rarely volunteers personal information unless trust has already been established. Even after decades among his pack, there are aspects of himself he simply does not discuss.

Despite this distance, he is deeply loyal to those he considers his own. Protection comes instinctively to him, often placing himself in danger before allowing harm to reach someone under his care. Betrayal, however, is something he struggles to forgive. Once trust is broken, rebuilding it can take years.

Around people he genuinely trusts, William becomes calmer and more open. A dry, understated sense of humor occasionally surfaces, along with a tendency to tell old stories without immediately realizing how strange they sound to modern listeners. He has a highly tactical mind and excels at strategy, investigation, and reading the motivations of others. He prefers planning to improvisation, though he adapts quickly when necessary.

Background: William was once entirely human. Over a century ago, he lived an ordinary life with his wife and three children before a werewolf attack destroyed it all. During a family hiking trip, a rogue werewolf attacked them in the wilderness. William fought back desperately with whatever he could find — a walking stick, stones, and eventually a silver-coated knife from his hiking supplies.

Though he managed to drive the creature away, his family was killed and William himself was mortally wounded. Instead of dying, however, he awoke imprisoned within the basement of a werewolf pack leader’s home. Members of the local pack had been tracking the rogue responsible and had found him alive during the aftermath.

The pack’s Alpha, Cecil Kane, offered him a place among them. William initially resisted fiercely, horrified by what he had become and consumed by grief for his family. Over time, however, the acceptance and companionship of the pack slowly drew him back from isolation. He eventually learned to coexist with the wolf rather than view it solely as a curse.

For decades, William helped maintain secrecy around supernatural existence while serving quietly from the background.

That secrecy has recently begun to unravel. With human technology advancing rapidly, supernatural leadership determined that remaining entirely hidden would soon become impossible. In an attempt to control the narrative and avoid open conflict, certain supernatural groups agreed to begin carefully revealing themselves to humanity.

The werewolves chose to step forward first.

William was unexpectedly selected as one of the representatives tasked with working alongside human authorities to establish trust and cooperation. Though uncomfortable with public exposure and political maneuvering, he accepted the order and now finds himself operating directly beside federal agents and investigators in a rapidly changing world.

Abilities

* Enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and senses
* Accelerated healing
* Transformation between human and wolf forms
* Heightened ability to track scents and emotional states
* Skilled hand-to-hand combatant
* Experienced investigator and strategist
* Exceptional resistance to cold weather and harsh environments
Weaknesses

* Silver significantly weakens and injures him
* Emotional trauma surrounding his lost family remains unresolved
* Distrustful nature can hinder relationships and teamwork
* Strong protective instincts may lead to reckless decisions
* Struggles with public attention and political roles

Habits & Mannerisms

* Often scans rooms and crowds continuously without realizing it
* Drinks hot beverages, mainly hot chocolate and apple cider, constantly during winter months
* Holds prolonged eye contact when suspicious or assessing threats
* Rarely raises his voice; anger usually makes him quieter instead
* Tends to stand with his back near walls or exits
* Uses subtle humor delivered with an entirely serious expression

Notable Details

* His eyes become noticeably more gold when agitated or emotional
* Keeps very few personal belongings despite his age
* Has adapted surprisingly well to modern investigative technology
* Strongly dislikes discussing his human family
* Often underestimated due to his calm demeanor
* Possesses a near-perfect memory for faces, scents, and conversations

The Hunter and the Hunted (Raptra x AutumnFrost)

The distinctive click of a bolt being loaded into a crossbow was what finally broke through the layer of shock that had settled over Joshua, his pointed ears twitching forward as he lifted his golden gaze to the woman. He instinctively stiffened as he saw the weapon ready in her hand, but found that there was a curious lack of immediate threat in the action. Still, he barely dared to breathe, let alone blink as he watched the Hunter‘s face. A second, Unexpected click of a weapon had his muscles twitching, head swiveling towards the sound with a silent growl wrinkling his muzzle. Another hunter, a man, was crouched on the edge of the clearing, a secondary crossbow in his hands aimed and ready to fire. Fur beginning to bristle, Joshua instinctively parted his jaws to bare his fangs at the new threat, but was brought up short as the woman he had protected hissed Saufley to her companion, waving him off with a hand.

Mouth closing, the red and black werewolf stared uncomprehendingly at the huntress, trying to understand her motive. and as he stared, he felt as if he was being drawn forward somehow, already having taken a hesitant step forward before consciously choosing to do so. Freezing as soon as he realized what he had done, Joshua immediately backpedaled, taking several steps backwards and flattening his ears. Head lowering, he wheeled around, taking off in a limping run into the trees, pausing only long enough to cast one last look over his shoulder before disappearing into the underbrush.

Heart pounding against his chest, not from his run or the threat of dying he had just faced, Joshua found himself struggling to comprehend what had just happened, all fire from the earlier fighting long since drained away. He had never encountered a situation where he had felt a desire to protect someone that was not his pack, especially a human. And he had never thought of, let alone acted upon the desire to attack another of his kind. And yet that was the situation he now found himself in, having encountered both situations in one night in the span of only a handful of minutes. Slowing to a stop, panting breaths slightly wheezing as they left his open jaws, he again looked back over his shoulder, though the woman had been left behind quite some time ago. But no matter how long he stared into the trees, it all came down to the same thing. He didn’t understand. Sinking down onto his haunches with a groan, Joshua focused his attention on something he did understand, licking his wound clean, firmly putting all thoughts of the woman at the back of his mind.

Portals to the Nether (Fetzen x AutumnFrost)

Delicious smells wafting through the air were successfully making Branna’s mouth water as she headed into one of the restaurant and temporary lodging districts, dinner and the beginning of Mary making spilling out of open doorways and tempting passerby‘s to come inside with both sites and smells. Living off of trail rations and whatever she could hunt up for herself for the last several weeks, everything she was presented with was a temptation. Baked goods, cakes, roasted meats, all of them looked like the most delicious thing she had ever laid eyes on. Biting at her tongue and doing her best to ignore the growling in her stomach, Branna pressed on towards her destination, resolving to get herself some dinner when she stopped in.

“If i’m not careful, I’m going to spend every last coin in my purse,” she sighed, averting her gaze from an arrangement of fruit filled cakes displayed beautifully in one of the window she was passing by.

There was a sense of real relief when the Griffin’s Wing finally came into view, the two-story edifice warm and inviting with an open Front door and windows aglow with fire light. Sighing audibly, Branna slid from Storm’s saddle and led the stallion around back, passing him off to a stable worker and handing over a few copper coins to get her horse a proper rub down and some oats along with his hay. At last, with a feeling of anticipation, she hurried back around to the front of the inn, important items stowed away in her pack from her saddlebags.

Warm stew and bread scented air almost immediately enveloped Branna as she stepped through the front door, provoking a fresh wave of saliva in her mouth. She grinned to herself automatically, thinking that Stanley’s wife Harriet must be in charge of kitchen duties for the evening before she felt as if someone were watching her. Automatically, her bright blue gaze swept over the common room, almost instantly settling on a bear of a man sitting alone at one of the tables and taking up his fair share of room and then some. He was watching her, or at least the front door where she happened to be. She offered him a quick quizzical smile before hurrying across to the counter at the back of the room where she could see Stanley‘s balding head poking over a few of the other patrons.

“Well well, if it isn’t Branna of the Wilds, Come back to civilization to grace us with her presence,” Stanley boomed as soon as he caught sight of her, offering her a genial pat on her shoulder. “What can I do for you lass?”

“Evening Stan,” Branna shouted back over the noise of the crowd. “I’ll take some of your stew and bread, especially of Harriet is in the kitchen. And I also need a room for the night. After things settle down, I’ve also got some questions.“

Stanley raised his eyebrows, but smiled understandingly nevertheless. She was always in here asking questions after all. “Will do. Find yourself a seat and I’ll have One of the girls bring you your food.“

“Thank you,” Branna called back, waving One of her hands as she turned away from the counter and scanned the available space. After a moment, she shrugged to herself. Why not? He was certainly intriguing enough, and she had always had a problem with curiosity. Weaving her way through the tables, the raven haired woman made her way towards the man she had spotted earlier, coming to a stop across the table from him and offering another smile. “Mind if I sit here? I don’t bite, promise.“

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

Hooray! I don’t mind that you reserved a couple of spots, I think it’s a smart idea. Better safe than sorry. Always. :D

Time to start answering some questions! Ha ha! I am glad that you are OK with it set in the winter. I’m tired of it being hot too...

In regards to the timing, I imagined we would be starting the story a few months after the werewolves have come out to the public. The idea is still sinking in with the general population, but government interactions would be starting to become a regular thing. The catalyst for our characters to be meeting would be the sudden slew of murders and disappearances. The leaders of the werewolves are worried that the humans are going to jump on the situation and point the fingers at the newly revealed monsters immediately, so they are trying to show good Grace by offering to help with an investigation. Werewolves can detect, in most cases, other supernatural creatures using their sense of smell. They are also very strong and very fast.

In regards to William, and the rest of the werewolves as a matter of fact, he actually appears to be in his prime. So even though he was changed when he was starting to get wrinkles and gray hair’s, he doesn’t have either of those now. The change gives them permanent youth as long as they are alive.

Oh, I would definitely expect the humans to still be skeptical, as mentioned with this being said right after the reveal.

Ah yes, the city. Hmm... I I think it should definitely be a major city, that’s for sure. And I like the idea of it being an existing city, but us taking creative liberties with it, give it our own spin. I can imagine something in the Midwest, somewhere that they are likely to get a lot of snow. Chicago, Rochester, Boston, things like that. I am OK with wherever if you would like to pick something. :)

W. I. R. Project? I like it! I think that could work. If I can come up with anything else, I’ll let you know.

If I repeat myself, I apologize. I’ll just put some general information about werewolves here. Some of this would be known, some of it still unrevealed.

Werewolves are created, not born. At least, there has never been a documented account of a person that was born already a werewolf. Werewolf females cannot become pregnant, the change is too violent and they spontaneously miscarry any pregnancies. But it takes more than a scratch or a bite to become a werewolf. The person has to survive an attack so vicious that it would otherwise leave them dead, allowing the magic of the change to infiltrate their body. When successful, they recover rapidly. Because of the violent nature of the change, it is much more common to have men become werewolves rather than women, due to their naturally stronger bodies.

Werewolves have a perpetual look of youth about them, an adult in their prime. They are not affected by sickness or disease. People who are changed when they are older revert to a state of prime and any existing conditions of illness are eliminated.

Werewolves can change outside of the full moon. While every werewolf Hass to change when the moon is full, it is not the only time that they have the ability to change. Changing is a painful, lengthy process. The more dominant a wolf is, the less time it usually takes, but the average amount of time is anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes.

Werewolves resemble regular wolves, Though a hybrid form is possible, though it is difficult. Unlike regular wolves however, werewolves are much larger and more densely muscled, have much larger fangs, and are built more like a large cat or bear throughout their shoulders and front legs. Their coloring also much more resembles the wider variety of dogs rather than the Limited grays of Timberwolves. Werewolf eyecolor changes depending on if they are fully human or the wolf is close to the surface as well. Because they are so densely muscled, they cannot swim, much like chimpanzees.

Werewolves have hot tempers, but more dominant wolves are able to control those beneath them.

Werewolves are structured into packs, With an alpha at the head. Loan wolves are very rare. On the North American continent, there is one alpha werewolf that is more dominant than every other wolf and is considered to be the alpha of all the alphas. He has the last say on any major decision, but regularly leaves smaller decisions to the appointed alphas over the packs spread out across the continent.

Werewolves are faster and stronger than any human. Their senses of smell and hearing our keener as well. They also have the ability to heal quickly from any injury. Silver is very harmful to them however, the wounds from anything that includes silver taking much longer to heal. Even just touching a werewolf with silver burns them.

Staring a werewolf in the eyes triggers and instinctive reaction, as they take it as a dominance challenge. This is especially dangerous for humans. Most older werewolves have learned tricks to avoid unnecessarily starting a dominance stare down, though most humans instinctively know to look away, though they don’t understand why.

That’s all I can think of at the moment. I’ll add any additional information here if it comes to mind. And of course, feel free to ask any further questions. :3

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

Winter in a city seemed to always be so depressing. Everything had a grey, rather grimey, Quality to it, from the crushed rock salt coding all of the cars to the snow that had turned into slush along gutters and sidewalks, soaking through the careless walker's socks. Even the sky looked grey, With an overcasting of clouds clinging to it, threatening to start snowing at any moment. People hurried down the sidewalks, Shoulders hunched in and dark clothing blending them into one Never-ending mass, only adding to the gray atmosphere that hung thick Over everything.

But then, like a fish swimming to the surface of murky water, a splash Of color appeared, coming in the form of a bright blue knitted hat. Only adding to the effect was the fact that a rather tall man was wearing it, making the hat stand out among the crowd by several inches. The man himself was mild in comparison to his head adornment however, With average pleasant features that didn't make him immediately stand out, while still managing to come off as somewhat handsome. Like everyone else, he Was wearing a dark coat, an almost black gray wool That came down to the tops of his calves, Underneath of which was a bright white henley shirt. This was carefully tucked Into a pair of neatly pressed black slacks. Simple, durable Black shoes finished the ensemble, obviously chosen to cope with the weather rather then be fashionable. But unlike everyone else, he actually seemed to be comfortable with the snow, even if his expression was slightly grim.

William Grant, As the man was known, Was in and Of himself an anomaly. That was part in Parcel something that came along with being a werewolf, he supposed. He had once been like the people walking around him, weak, Oblivious by choice or design to the supernatural world, and completely human.

He had had a family once, had just started to get his first grey hairs, and had begun to develop laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. But then his own naivety had been shattered when he and his family had been attacked. He, his wife, and his three young children had gone on a hike, enjoying some time away from the city out in the wilderness. He hadn't seen where the werewolf had come from initially, But it had killed the youngest of his children before he had had the chance to react.

A walkingstick and a rock. That was what he had been able to use to break several of the creature's bones, horrifying him by the strength and sheer impossibility of refusing to die under the attacks the beast showed. Eventually, he had had the opportunity to retrieve a knife from his bag, The creature's clause having ripped through the fabric and spilling the contents across the ground. He hadn't known then that the silver coating the blade was the ultimate factor that had saved his life. His family dead around him, the rogue werewolf having long since run away, William had lain in the dirt awaiting his own death, an arm pressed over his stomach where it had been ripped open. He hadn't been able to save them, and he welcomed death.

Only he didn't die. William had eventually woken up in a bed that was placed in a room with bars across the high Windows and bars where a door should have been. Two men were there, waiting for him to wake up. They  explained calmly to him what he had become, tried to impress upon him the changes that he had gone through. At first, he hadn't believed them. Until one of the men changed into a wolf before his eyes.

William had quickly discovered that he had been picked up by some members of the local werewolf pack who had been tracking down the rogue. They had brought him to the cell in the basement of their leader's house and the Alpha, Cecil Kane, intended to bring him into the "family", As he called it. He had resisted at first, not wanting to embrace being a monster. But time, Friendship, and acceptance had eventually worn him down. And he had spent the last 80 years within his new family, learning how to control and become one with his wolf, keeping the secret of his existence.

Recently, that secret had begun to change. After years of counseling and debating, the elders of his kind had agreed, along with some of the other supernatural creatures that lived in the world, that it would be better for their survival if some of their numbers came out to the public. Human technology and science was progressing to the point where it was becoming near impossible for the supernatural world to stay hidden for much longer. If they preemptively came out, this would hopefully be a sign of nonaggression to the human population. They wouldn't all come out at once, no. The werewolves would reveal themselves first. Some secrets still had to be kept after all. But those of higher power carefully selected those beneath them to be The front of the revelation, the face of the species. William hadn't really expected to be one of those chosen. But his Alpha had come to him, informing him that there was a special assignment that needed to be done, something that would form positive relations with the humans, and for some reason, William was the chosen candidate. He hadn't been happy with it, but there wasn't much arguing when your Alpha gave a direct order.

He had, he found out, the unpleasant task of not working alone. Some other poor soul had also been recruited for the assignment. But William hadn't been given very many details about who this would be. All he knew, or thought he knew, was that they would be someone sent by the FBI. He hadn’t even gotten a name. Because of the lack of information, he had chosen to wear a distinctive hat, making himself purposefully stand out so that the other person coming on this investigation could find him, Informing his Alpha that he would be doing so. And then he had gotten on the plane that had taken him to this snowy city.

Now, standing in the middle of a Central Square of an outdoor shopping districtand blinking up at the oppressing looking clouds overhead, pushing back the memories that had surfaced, William Cradled a large cup of hot chocolate in his hands as he waited for his partner to arrive so that they could discuss their upcoming assignment. The heat That radiated through the styrofoam cup to his fingers felt nice as he shifted his weight  Back onto his heels, carefully scanning the crowd of faces that ever changed around him for a glint Of recognition that would come to his chosen partner's eyes. He Would quietly sip At the sweet creamy liquid and offer intense stares  to those who showed far too much interest in him and most likely his hat without the acknowledgment of Understanding of Who he actually was. At that point, they would either walk away rather hastily, casting nervous glances over their shoulders, or Return his stare With a slightly unsure And rather dazed Expression, before walking away with puzzlement Afterwards. It Didn't bother him in the slightest. Shrugging His broad shoulders with a small rustle of silk lining, his light blue gaze Continued to sweep over the sea of people that ever changed around him.

The Hunter and the Hunted (Raptra x AutumnFrost)

As the other werewolf steadily threaded his way across the small clearing, their nose to the ground, Joshua hesitated on the edge of the trees, ears perked. He briefly considered circling around to the other side of the tree in order to come at the hunter from both sides, but quickly discarded the thought as his wound throbbed. Werewolves healed fast, true, but the process was considerably sped up or slow down by the dominance of the wolf in question. He certainly wasn’t very dominant, and thus expected his injury to last a couple of hours at least. Inwardly grumbling as he resigned himself to wait and help as needed, he watched as the wolf with mottled brown and black fur paused near the roots of a tree, muscles tensing for an attack.

The action happened fast, the hunter popping up over the edge of the root with a bolt in one hand, aiming for the werewolf’s head. She missed and the canid creature bit down on her arm, tossing his head and throwing her out into the clearing. Joshua prepared to run out in that moment, but was blocked by the other wolf leaping forward into his path, his jaws clamping down onto the human‘s leg. The woman screamed, but managed to shove what looked like another crossbow bolt into The werewolf‘s snout.

The werewolf thrashed at first, but gradually grew still. Joshua‘s ears flicked with surprise. Usually, a wound to the nose wasn’t fatal. Either the woman had coded her ammunition with poison... or the wolf really wasn’t dead. Holding his breath as the hunter scooted back from the body, he finally caught a full glimpse of her face. Almost immediately, the rage and bloodlust that had been building up inside him at the possible death of one of his pack flickered and was snuffed out.

...Why is her face so familiar? Memories flickered like smoke on the edges of his mind, but like smoke, they quickly dissipated and thinned, drifting away from him. He didn’t know where he had met this woman before, or even win, and he certainly didn’t understand why her face suddenly made his anger slip away. But somehow, it did.

As the woman stumbled back into the trees, Joshua stood rooted to the spot, indecision and confusion flickering through him. Then, He heard something that made his ears twitch. A heartbeat. Not his own, not the hunter’s, but a third heartbeat. The wolf she had attacked wasn’t dead after all. As the wounded creature lunged drunkenly to his feet, bloodied jaws parting as he staggered forward towards the woman‘s new hiding spot, Joshua felt himself react instinctively. He didn’t understand why, but he suddenly wanted to protect the hunter. Disregarding the burn of the arrow wound in his thigh, The red werewolf shot out of the cover of the trees, darting in and clamping his jaws on the back of the other wolf‘s neck. Growling deep in his throat, he shook his head back-and-forth violently, both feeling and hearing a snap as the black and brown wolf‘s neck broke beneath his fangs. Breathing heavily, heart pounding hard against his ribs, Joshua waited for several moments before he released his hold, the body of the dead werewolf thumping to the ground. He stared at the dead wolf, shocked.

What have I done?

The Hunter and the Hunted (Raptra x AutumnFrost)

Fights always ended up becoming a blur to some degree or another in the end, a series of actions and reactions, motions and attacks. And even though Joshua hadn’t wanted to be part of this fight, the wolf in his blood responded to the scent of fear in the air, the sounds of his pack attacking and hunting. He had struggled at first against the desire to bare his fangs in an attack or raise his claws to cause injury, but the animalistic nature of his beast was growing stronger than his self control and eventually he found himself leaping into the action, a snarl sliding from between his exposed teeth.

at one point, he found himself biting down on the leg of a man that had fallen to the ground, and Joshua had just enough time to react to the human‘s sudden movement to dance out of the way of a blow from a spiked mace, though the weapon managed to slash a few cuts across his shoulder before he had completely gotten out of range. Hissing through his teeth at the sudden sharp sting, the red werewolf had just prepared himself to leap onto his attacker when a sudden yelp exploded from behind him, completely distracting him. Whirling around, Joshua caught sight of Brandt staggering to one side, the hilt of a knife poking through his fur on his ribs and a figure running away from him into the trees. Almost instantly, he ran forward, pursuing the figure into the forest.

An arrow thudding into one of his hind legs slowed Joshua down almost instantly, an involuntary cry of pain torn from his throat as he stumbled. Snarling fiercely, he clamped his teeth on the shaft of the arrow, just able to sync his fangs into the end near the feathers and yanked it free of his skin, golden eyes instantly hunting for the wielder of the bow. But before he could locate them, another werewolf ran past, refocusing his attention on the trees and the person who had attacked Brandt. Temporarily torn, Joshua eventually decided to pursue his first target in favor of the one with the arrows, not exactly keen on the idea of getting hit with another one. With a limp to his stride, he followed after the other wolf, picking up traces of the human that had run into the forest, the smell of blood mixing with their fear and adrenaline. Ears perking as he caught the sound of heavy breathing, Joshua watched the other wolf step out into a clearing, angular head swiveling back and forth, jaws parting in a threatening growl.

Blood in the Moonlight (Orynae x AutumnFrost)

True evening had fallen by the time Raith retook to the streets, rubbing his hands together as if to remove some sort of residue clinging to the skin. He certainly felt as if he had been doused in oil, Omiar’s crooked yellow smile burned behind his eyelids. With a shiver that ran the length of his spine, Raith hurried away from the rats nest hole in the wall building with its deceptive medicinal herbs and remedies front, shrugging his cloak closer to his neck and ignoring the impulse to look back over his shoulder every couple of steps. Unpleasant as the reunion had been, it had served his purpose. He now knew for a fact that the captain of the queens guard was innocent. All that remained was for him to secure her release. And he highly doubted that his asking politely was going to be enough to get the job done.

A quarter of an hour later saw the young man near the center of town, standing in the shadow of a building and looking up at the high wall that surrounded the palace grounds proper. Biting at his lower lip in thought, Raith’s hazel eyes swept over The seemingly insurmountable barrier between him and the palace, assessing his options. After several moments, he approached the wall, stepping between the pools of firelight cast by a pair of stone braziers set atop The wall, running his fingers over the stone. Slipping his other hand into an inner pocket of his cloak, he withdrew a dagger, Balancing the small blade in his fingers for a moment before testing it’s point against the grout that cemented the blocks of stone that made up the wall together. With some effort, He managed to get most of the blade in between the stones. It wasn’t a perfect plan, nor was it the fastest, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice. Pulling the dagger free, he began circling the wall, in search of a better location to make the climb.

He found the perfect spot rather quickly, a brazier’s flame guttering lo from lack of fuel darkening the shadows on one corner, Raith started his climb, pulling out a second dagger to assist him. Slowly, carefully, he began ascending the wall, face flushing with the effort of pulling himself up and bracing himself against the tiniest cracks. Not moving faster than he was able, he didn’t want to chance an unfortunate fall, Raith wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he finally reached the top of the battlements and grabbed onto the edge of the wall. Wiping away a trickle of sweat from his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt, the young man took a moment to look around, searching for any sign of a passing guard patrol. Luck still inexplicably holding, he didn’t see anyone in his vicinity and was able to pull himself up and over the wall in one quick movement, pausing only long enough to retrieve his daggers and stow them away in his cloak again. Then, with a deep breath of warm night air, he hurried off along the battlements in a slow crouch, making his way towards the nearest staircase.

As he reached the foot of the stairs, Raith froze suddenly as a burst of laughter sounded nearby, his Head shooting up quickly. Approaching his location, a group of five soldiers were coming around the corner of one of the inner buildings, torches held in their hands, clearly in the middle of an absorbing conversation. Cursing under his breath, Raith hurriedly ducked into the space beneath the stairs, pressing himself as far as he could against the wall and praying that he hadn’t been spotted. As the first of the guards started to pass, he had to suppress the reaction to sigh with relief when he saw that the man wasn’t looking in his direction, eyes focused ahead. Raith filtered out there conversation, something to do with a hidden brothel in the city, and instead reached once again inside his cloak. This time, he pulled out a small vial of some sort of bluish green liquid, slowly pulling out the Needle that had been concealed within before he re-Stoppard the bottle. He had been planning on using the needle as a last resort, should one of the soldiers happen to look in his direction, but found himself considering an alternative use when his observant mind picked out The tidbit of information that the man in the back of the group, the most nervous looking of them, was a new recruit. The older, more seasoned fighters were currently teasing the other mercilessly, though none glanced in his direction, Instead choosing to make sidelong comments and snarky remarks over their shoulders to one another that had the younger man shrinking in on himself and falling steadily behind. Just as the group was almost out of his reach, Raith made up his mind and hurried forward, sliding one of his hands over the young man‘s mouth while simultaneously sticking the end of the needle into his neck. The man jerked with surprise, but didn’t even manage a muffled cry before the solution he had been injected with had taken effect, his eyelids drooping as he fell into a deep sleep. Levering the weight of the soldier so that his armor didn’t clatter, Raith carefully dragged the man backwards into the space beneath the stairs, holding his breath once again as he watched the other soldiers marching on obliviously.

~*~

’I hope that leaving him there wasn’t a bad omen,’ Raith thought darkly to himself some time later as he walked quietly into the palace, freshly dressed in the new recruit‘s armor, it’s unfortunate owner left snoozing beneath the stairs next to the battlements.

Walking purposefully and looking straight ahead, Raith eventually was able to make his way down into what he hoped was the dungeon area of the castle, no one having stopped him. That was part of the secret of getting around someplace you really weren’t meant to be: look like you were supposed to be there. People were less likely to question your being there if you looked like you had a purpose. Eventually, He found himself at a door and he paused, gathering his strength. Silently hoping that whomever was on the other side of the door wasn’t likely to put up a fight, Raith tapped The wooden surface sharply.

“Oy, change of shift,” he grunted, Lowering his tenor voice into a gravelly baritone. “New Captain says I need to get some experience in the dungeons.“

Portals to the Nether (Fetzen x AutumnFrost)

The city of Eversong was awashhh in the glow of early evening sunlight, the white marble walls reflecting the changing colors of the sunset brilliantly. The brush, grass, and trees glowed almost orange in the reflected sunset, the Silvered River running close to the road appearing to have jewels fragmenting across the surface. All in all, creating a rather romantic setting. Perhaps a Little too poetic for some peoples liking, but who didn’t wax poetic every now and then? On the back of her steel gray stallion, Branna Winter quirked up The corners of her mouth as she surveyed the capital city before her, one of her hands shielding her eyes.

“Maybe I take the dramatic musings a little too far sometimes, wouldn’t you say Storm?” Branna mused out loud to her horse, casting a quick look down at the back of the stallion‘s head. He cocked an ear at her, but otherwise chose not to respond. “Thanks for that,“ she huffed, grinning as she dropped her hand from her eyes to rub briefly at the side of her companion‘s neck.

Branna wasn’t the most beautiful of women, but she did all right for herself if she put some effort into it. Granted, that wasn’t very often, not with her occupation, but at least she didn’t scare the strangers she met out in the country. She was short of stature, just managing to pass five feet, but was lean and fit. Her skin, suntanned from all the hours she spent traveling, bore several scars across her forearms and two parallel lines that marred one of her cheeks, but was otherwise free of blemishes. Her midnight dark hair, pulled back from her face in a braid that trailed nearly to her waist, offset the only feature she liked about herself, her clear blue eyes. Tugging at the front of her leather jerkin and passing a quick look over her dusty travel worn breeches and cloak, she had to admit that her current appearance screamed adventurer. Not that she minded. The more she looked like a capable ranger, the more likely she was to be hired to escort some nobleman or rich merchant.

Nudging Storm into a gentle trot, Branna guided her mount towards one of the large gates leading into Eversong, digging around in one of her saddlebags as she went until she retrieved her formal residency papers. Security had been tighted around the capital the last several weeks and most suspected it had a lot to do with recent attacks on outlying cities. No one was sure if enemy forces had infiltrated the country or if a capable bandit group was responsible for the devastation, but the citizens were increasingly nervous. Branna had even heard a rumor that Freeport, The largest and most economically profitable port city in the kingdom, had fallen under attack. It was when she had gathered this information that Branna had decided to head back towards the capital. With any luck, she’d be able to find more solid information about the current happenings. Showing her papers to one of the guards on duty at the gate, she was waved in a Quick moment later, joining the throng of citizens already in residence.

The interior of Eversong was even more radiant than the exterior of the city had been. The majority of the buildings had been constructed of white marble, edged and laced with gold and silver, with the rest of the construction made out of pale gray stone blocks. Even the edges of the river, which ran through the center of the city, had been lined with marble and stone, creating a natural canal. The river was spanned in several places by tall arching bridges, connecting The Northern and Southern halves of the city. All of the structures, theresidential buildings, the businesses, the government buildings, were maintained and kept clean fastidiously, giving the entire city a glow all of its own. With her horse‘s hooves clacking against the cobblestone streets, Branna couldn’t help but smile as she looked at her surroundings, finally feeling as if she had come home.

“Let’s Head over to the Griffin’s Wing and see if Stanley has any information for us, shall we?“ Branna queried allowed to her stallion, clearly in the habit of talking with the beast after spending so much time alone with him, mentioning one of the more popular inns within the city. Storm snorted, almost as if in response, then turned down a side street as his reigns were gently tugged, picking his way through the crowd.