FATE -- [Persephone]

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 495px; height: 700px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/xeefjr.jpg)] Sunset, he thought as his eyes skimmed the darkening horizon as he sat poised on the roof of a ramshackle house, one hand idly resting on his knee the other clutching his staff. He was at the edge of the Nakoma border, a fair distance from Shantytown. Probably time to be heading back to the camp and return his rope of small prey, before his tribe-mates grew worried. He gave a derisive snort at that thought, a grim smile peeling at his lips. How foolish he was to think they would even notice his absence. The silent man who might as well have been a shadow for all that he hid in them. He felt like such a stranger, even amongst his own kind, like he was forever destined to eat, sleep and fight beside them –and yet never truly be a part of them. If he died for them, would they even notice he was gone? Doubtful. It wasn’t like he cared much, anyhow. The only one that mattered was Persephone Todd. She was the reason he’d joined the Nakoma, the reason he was still alive for gods-sake. And she didn’t even know it; they’d met once, when he’d worked up the courage to approach her. God, it had taken him weeks. Weeks of fretting and panicking that she would recognize him from the labs straight off and tell the others what he’d done. His eyes hazed for a moment as his thoughts clouded with memories. Had he always been such a horrible human being? He tried to remember a time when his hands weren’t covered in some type of blood, when he wasn’t so focused on what had to be done that names and faces didn’t matter anymore. It wasn’t like he’d killed and killed and countless had fallen at his feet as he felled them mercilessly one after the other. He’d struck only when he had to. They were victims of necessity, merely a solution to the problem at hand. Crawford squeezed his eyes shut, biting the side of his mouth until blood trickled between his gums. Imogen wasn’t a problem. She was never a problem. She was the best thing that had happened to him, the only other person he would ever truly love. If he had blood on his hands, it was only to provide for her. To take care of her in a world that was determined to take her away from him. His sister had been the meaning to his life, the very center of his infinite universe. She wasn’t a problem. Or…hadn’t been. She was gone now, after all. And there was no one for him to protect, no one for him to live for. Isolated, he was adrift, looking for something to make the ache in his chest go away. Imogen had broken his heart when she died. Hissing between his teeth at his own thoughts; he brought the heel of his palm and thumped the side of his head. “Shut up,” he muttered to himself, as if it would chase the thoughts away. They never left him, they were always there haunting him. He let out another laugh. God, he was pathetic. Shaking his head and dragging himself slowly to his feet, he balanced easily on the arch of the roof and tied the rope of prey he’d felled earlier to his belt. Crawford was just turning round to give one last glance of his environment when a loud flapping of wings sounded behind him and he felt a body slam into him. He pitched forward with a grunt of surprise, curling himself into a ball as he slammed onto the tar-roof of a squat garage annexed to the house, about six feet below. His shoulder popped and he bit back a scream, but he was instantly on his feet and used the momentum of his fall to tip himself off the garage and to the ground below. He landed easily, managing to keep hold of his harpoon, and turned to face his attacker. He didn’t speak as the man followed Crawford’s path down the garage and stood glaring down at him from above, eyeing the string of fresh kill on his belt. Crawford’s eyes flicked to the side as two more Shifters slithered from the deepening shadows, eyes and cheeks hollow with hunger. His arm dangled at his side, his shoulder already beginning to swell. The fin-like spines on his back began to rise, a thick poisonous fluid dripping from them as his blood pressure skyrocketed. Cursing his lack of attention, he slammed the butt of his spear onto the cracked cement and gladly accepted the challenge they’d ushered with their ambush; one that they would regret. The man on the garage shifted into a hawk and let out a screech, flying high above before diving straight for Crawford as the two Shifters to his side shifted as well, two medium-sized felines he didn’t know the name of. They charged him at once, driven to desperation by the hunger in their bellies. He didn’t blame them, really. He’d have done the same in their position. But that didn’t mean he’d go easy on them. Twirling his spear, he nimbly dodged the attack from above and hurled his harpoon at one of the felines, catching it in the chest. It crumpled to the ground with a yowl, its fellow barely registering what had happened before Crawford was challenging their charge and running straight for them, intent on retrieving his harpoon from the feline’s chest. Blood was pooling around her body and she was convulsing on the ground as the life slipped out of her. The second feline had turned back and stood over his friend’s body, frantic, panicking. Crawford reached them seconds later, and tearing the spear from the fallen girl’s body he slammed his sandaled foot into the side of the others head, followed suit by a hefty swing to the top of its skull with the butt of his staff. It wouldn’t kill him, but it knocked him out. With that he turned his attention to the hawk, which had been joined by two other birds that same hunger gleaming in their eyes. Crawford grunted and hefted his spear with his one working arm, as the three of them dove and landed in a trio around him. He spun his spear with deft speed, and was wondering how he'd get himself out of this one when they leaped at him. He dodged two, but the third cuffed him on the ear and another got a clean slice on his side as he tried to twist away, eliciting a hiss of pain as a soft mist of blood sprayed from another blow to his wounded shoulder. Maybe he'd get to find out if his tribe-mates would notice him missing, after all. ooc; longish post is longish. sorry for any typos, will edit tomorrow when I am less sleepies !

[Persephone Todd]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 453px; height: 625px; background-image:url(http://i41.tinypic.com/xogwn5.jpg)] The sky was turning colors, the shadows were getting longer. The longer they grew, the more her lack of companionship became a nagging constant in Persephone’s mind. As did the fact that it was going to be completely dark before she could reach home. And that in general, the dark had certain advantages for anything inclined to attack. She hadn’t come out here alone, of course. It was too easy to snatch up an apprentice and drag them along on mundane errands, in the name of training. This time around, her victim had been some girl named Molly; their destination, a particular house near the borders that had proved quite handy for the healers. Whoever once lived there had quite the extensive herb garden, it seemed. While most of it had been choked out through the centuries, the remnants were a useful supply. It just had an inconvenient location. Alas, the gazelle anthro had left quite some time ago; she had an evening patrol. Seph suspected she had been relieved to get away. She didn’t regret pestering the shy girl, though; she only regretted that she hadn’t gone back with her. She kept telling herself she wasn’t completely alone. Most of her tribemates would be back at the Hovel by now, true. But there were always patrols; she’d exchanged hasty greetings with one not too long ago. Almost anywhere in the territory, you were within screaming distance of someone. Of course, that was taking into consideration the enhanced hearing of many anthros, which meant that earshot could be quite a distance to run. Plenty of time to get killed while your rescuers were in transit. It helped nothing that the scent of several rouges hung fresh in the air, though even that was illogical to worry about. She would have to slip past them, yes, but slipping past people was something she had long grown skilled at. Perhaps she would have been able to forget them, if not for the nagging fact that a Nakoma’s scent was getting twisted together with that of the intruders. It could be nothing. Not everyone who showed up on the tribelands had ill intentions. There was a slim chance that her tribemate was having perfectly civil interaction with the drifters. Once her ears could also detect them, however, it became clear that wasn’t the case. On the other side of a row of houses she could hear them, making too much of a ruckus to be doing anything peaceful. A mixture of curiosity and concern started to bend her path towards the sounds. Eventually she stashed her herbs on someone’s porch and slipped through the gap between two houses, very close to where the fight would be. The alley had become a virtual thicket of undergrowth, which was good cover; the plants grew almost above her head. Unfortunately they were also peppered with briars and burs that easily ripped at her fragile skin. The scratches disappeared with hardly any effort, though the momentary pain was bothersome. Thanks to practice, Persephone managed to travel through without a great deal of noise, and inspected the situation undetected. Quickly, she reached two conclusions. One, a fellow Nakoma was being whooped, and there was nothing for it but to rush to his rescue. Second, there was a vicious scuffle going on, she was horrible at fighting, and therefore the only sane thing to do was to hightail it. Thus stuck, Seph watched for a little longer while her conscience and her sense of self-preservation duked it out. She recognized the other anthro, though a name didn’t immediately attach to the face. Probably because she’d mostly just seen him, and hardly spoken to him. Which was good, in a way. The tribe was growing large indeed if the gregarious woman hadn’t managed to get to know everyone. The two cats already out on the ground offered hope that the other Nakoma could handle this all by himself. Hope that was soon crushed. Injured and possibly flagging, he was losing ground to the three desperate shifters. And still she wanted so much to just flee. Her fighting experience was almost nil. She was shaking at the very thought of trying. She could always run back to shantytown, on the pretense of fetching reinforcements. A long way, but there were others who would be a lot more useful against the rouges. That was excuse enough, right? Right? Finally she did turn and hurry away, but only to try and find something to use as a bludgeon. The time it would take to find something might be crucial, but she knew she would be useless empty-handed. Despite all the reasons not to help, the simple fact of the matter was that this chap was Nakoma. If Seph left him like this, it would eat away at her. The nudibranch girl combed the weeds, subjecting even her face to the more defensive plants. It felt like too long a time before she found a piece of metal pipe that wasn’t particularly thick, but looked useable. A couple of experimental stomps proved it wasn’t about to break in a hurry. Adequately armed, she crept back to the edge of the foliage, her mind carefully kept off anything but charging into the fray. ‘Just go. Don’t stop for anything, or you might not get going again. Cor, if you actually start reasoning about what you’re doing…no! Nonono, it’s, okay, you’re being perfectly sane! Okay, fine, you’re not…blast, you’re already overthinking this. Get out there.’ The scrawny anthro sprang from the overgrowth and swiftly covered the necessary distance. The two shifters facing her spotted her immediately, and shouted a warning to the other. Just as her target turned around, Seph screamed for all she was worth. The result was more of a crackling shriek than a strong battle cry, but it was effective. The sound was loud and feral, enough that the shifter seemed taken aback. Even better, the adrenaline it mustered drowned out her terror for the moment. Easier to pretend you were a crazed bruiser if you were screaming like one. His momentary hesitation and her quick reflexes were all she needed. Unpleasant sensations shot through her hand as the pipe collided with his forehead. A moment later his knife grazed her stomach, with considerably less force than he would have intended. She yelped, but the wound had already started to close as the shifter swayed, then toppled to the ground. Two against two now. With the element of surprise gone, however, Seph wasn’t sure if her joining the fight would even the odds much. o.o.c. – Meh, big and kinda flopsy. But EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. –flaildancing-

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 495px; height: 700px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/xeefjr.jpg)] The situation was certainly looking grim. Deep down he knew that he should just relent and give the Rogues the food dangling on his belt. But he could see in at least one of their eyes that it had become something more than that, and he was seen now not as a target for robbery, but an enemy. He supposed it had something to do with the girl he'd killed, but he couldn't be bothered with that thought now. He could barely get a thought formed, what with how much he was twisting and turning, dodging and deflecting any attacks he could with one arm. He was silent throughout their barrage of attacks, never emitting a sound except for a hiss or grunt of pain when they managed to land a blow. Their brawl had only been going on for a few minutes or so, but it felt as if he'd been at it for hours. He was beginning to lose his edge as the pain in his arm intensified. He took another blow to his limp limb, barely managing to bite back a cry of pain. He was about to strike back when he noticed one of the Rogue's dart off to the side. His eyes narrowed for a moment before flickering open in shock at what he saw--a tall Anthro running full speed toward the fray, screaming like a banshee. But that fact didn't shock him. It took him but a few precious seconds to realize that it was her. Persephone. That moment of hesitation was all it took for one of the Rogue's to circle behind him, and Crawford made a sound akin to a snarl when he felt claws rake down his back. He wasn't phased by the pain, in fact he found his lips curved up in a slight grin. Wrong move, he thought, immediately flicking the spines that lined his back upward and into the Rogue's arm, simultaneously knocking out the bloke rushing his front with a well placed punch to the gut. With but a second to appreciate it, he realized Persephone had take one Rogue out. Hearing the anticipated hiss of pain from behind, Crawford whirled around and moved to spear the man but the rogue had shifted back and was ready for him, palms outstretched to latch onto the shaft of Crawford's spear. They both froze for a moment before the Rogue's eyes narrowed and he gave the spear a mighty yank forward, wrenching it from Crawford's hand. It didn't phase him though, and he used the momentum of the Rogue's yank to twist himself up and around to the backside of the rogue, easily flicking out the karambit knife sheathed on his hip. He sliced at the Rogue's back in two quick motions, tearing easily through skin and muscle with the sharpened blade. He kept moving, not letting his opponent get a moment of rest. In another swift step he'd sunk his blade into the man's side and twisted, eliciting a cry of pain and a grim satisfaction as Crawford's spear hit the floor. Crawford heard the remaining Rogue's battle cry a she charged at Persephone, who was swinging a pipe. He quickly withdrew the blade from the man's body and shoved him roughly aside, clenching the double edged knife between his teeth. He slipped the tip of his foot under the spear and kicked it up and into his hand, anchored his footing and with one fluid motion, hurled his spear straight into the Rogue's shoulder. The rogue dropped like a rock, more from the shock of the impact than anything, and Crawford was already charging forward to finish the job. He landed on the felled Rogue and landed a couple of punches to the man's face, effectively knocking him out. He sheathed his blade, grabbed his spear sprouting from them man's back, and trotted towards Persephone. He nodded to her and motioned for her to follow as he took off down the street, sprinting at a good clip. He wanted to put as much distance as he could between them and the Rogues. Eventually he pulled to a stop in front of a rather sturdy looking house the Nakoma used as something of an outpost when out on long patrols. He opened the door and searched the insides for intruders before waving her in, turning and closing the door behind them he barred the door with a large wooden bench of sorts. "Are you hurt?" he asked as he turned to her, eyes skimming along her body as he checked her over for wounds. Finding that she wasn't, he sighed and leaned heavily against the wall, the fight finally taking it's toll on him as he watched the blood pooling at his feet. ooc| haha I just remembered I bought him a knife before posting this thread, so xD random knife appearance yay ;D alsooo, let me know if the end is ok. I didn't know how much fighting you wanted her to have to do ^^;

[Persephone Todd]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 453px; height: 625px; background-image:url(http://i41.tinypic.com/xogwn5.jpg)] The whole mess went by in a stereotypical blur. For a few distressing moments Seph watched the other anthro and his opponent, trying to distinguish the best way to jump in and help. Which made her wonder if she should jump in at all, since she had no idea what the best opportunity was. And then it didn’t matter, because the other rogue caught her attention by charging at her. The blotchy woman braced her feet and raised the pipe, attempting to look intimidating. And then she just tried to not look utterly terrified. The shifter went down only moments before he reached her. With a yip, Seph skittered back, eyes fixed on the unexpected spear. The other anthro was right behind his projectile. Before she could even cringe at the impending slaughter, he’d only knocked his opponent out. Apparently they still weren’t done rushing around faster than she could think. Persephone locked eyes with her companion for maybe a second before he galloped off, with only a brief gesture to follow. At first she hesitated, and not only from surprise at his unceremonious exit. The plants she’d been scratching herself up for all day were still on yonder porch, and she hated to think the rouges might happen upon them when they woke up. But the bundle of botany lost its charm the more she considered how dark it was getting. Tossing the pipe aside, the anthro woman ran after him. It was easier than she expected to catch up, and just as easy to keep pace. Nothing to take pride in, necessarily; she suspected it was a mix of his injuries and her body still being on high alert. Even her mind was rushing, mostly in replaying recent events with a mixture of horror and glee. Seph would never feel entirely happy about what she’d done to…whoever that rouge was. Oh, she was mad at him for trying to steal from and possibly kill a tribemate, of course. Yet she felt so squeamish about actually hurting him…it was all so confusing, especially with a mind scattered by adrenaline. It didn’t help that the whole thing was rather encouraging. Seph had always worried she wouldn’t last but two seconds in a fight, since she’d somehow managed to avoid ever really being in one while in the dome. This hardly qualified; all she’d done was sneak up on someone and knock them out before they really knew what was going on. But her mind was the sort to embellish. Despite the lingering possibility of rogue attacks, she couldn’t quite keep the corners of her mouth down. That small, nervous grin was still around when they reached their apparent destination. Why her companion chose this particular house, she had no idea; Seph just followed him across the jungle of a yard without question. The simple fact that this fellow seemed to know what he was doing was convincing enough. She was also quite happy to let him be the one to check inside, though being left in the open by herself was slightly nerve-wracking. The wait wasn’t long. Seph gladly entered and stepped out of the way as he barred the door. The bench thudded in place with comforting finality, and everything was dim, safe, and quiet. At first, she did nothing to make it any less quiet. Instead she silently hugged her arms, trying to stop her trembling with deep breaths. Studying her surroundings did little good; as usual, her eyespots weren’t adjusting well to the gloom. No matter; her curiosity was appeased soon enough. The other anthro proved he could speak, and would do so without being spoken to first. “Oh, I’m fine…though you’re not, if I remember correctly.” When she closed the distance between them, she realized he was propped against the wall, and caught a glint around his feet. “Blimey, you’re making puddles. Here, just…ugh!” She’d grabbed his wrist as she spoke, meaning to tug him into a sitting position. But only a slight movement of the arm made her notice the unnatural feel to it, familiar but no less disturbing. Well, it was easier to ask for forgiveness that for permission, especially from some stubborn manly-man who might turn sissy over healing procedures. Hopefully she could move faster than he could react. If only the process was as fast as movies made it look. One hand grabbed and steadied his upper arm, while the other brought his forearm parallel with the floor. Which all happened quickly enough, but then she rotated his forearm toward his stomach, and Emile always said to do that part slowly. “Please stay still,” she said, though it wasn’t a request as much as it was a warning as to how put off she’d be if he did otherwise. After a few swings in and out, there was a soft click. “There you are! Try and keep that still, I’ll make a sling for it in a bit. Now, stop pretending like you don’t need to sit down.” She didn’t wait for him to comply, instead going at the gash on the arm she’d just put back into place. “Let’s see, you areeee…blast it…Carter! That’s your name, innit? I almost couldn’t remember.”

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 495px; height: 700px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/xeefjr.jpg)] Pain radiated from his shoulder, a dull ache that twinged to life with the subtlest movement. The adrenaline from the fight was quickly fading and the strange bursts of energy he'd been getting since his time in Anthro testing was slowly fading. The strength had ebbed from him now, almost completely, but he tried to hide the fact from Persephone. He wanted to look strong in front of her, but as he watched her with hooded eyes he could feel a gentle haze settling over his thoughts. They had both changed so much since the days in the labs. He was smiling at her, but it was tinged with a sorrow reflected in his eyes. The warm haze was snapped from him instantly when she grabbed his wrist and tugged on his arm, however gentle--the twinge of pain contorted his features into a grimace of pain and he was effectively snapped from his reverie. He didn't pull away from her though, in fact his body seemed to relax at her touch. Only for a moment, of course, before he remembered how nervous she made him, a fact which was increased by the way she was looking at his arm and lifting it this way and that. Each movement elicited a jolt of pain and he could feel his eyes beginning to water at the intensity of the pain, but he refused to utter a sound that would reveal his pain. He kept his breathing as even as he could, sucking in air through clenched teeth as he fought his way through the sickening waves of pain. For a moment he was worried shock had started to settle in, but when the click of his shoulder popping back into place at last sang out and his arm was stilled he felt the nausea begin to fade. He didn't offer any arguments and slowly sat himself gratefully on the bench he'd blocked the door with, cringing when the shallow claw-wounds on his back that had already begun to clot split open, fresh blood trickling down his back. He'd remained quiet through her instruction and process, as he was wont to do, but she fixed him with what he would assume was a stare and asked him his name. He had mixed feelings on the matter--on the one hand, it was a good sign that she didn't recognize him from the Labs. On the other, it meant she hadn't really thought the new him worth remembering. So he watched her as she went about fixing up the gash on his arm in silence for a few moments longer before he replied. "S-something like that." he muttered in the flat American accent he'd practiced, adding a creative little stutter to further mask his voice from her. He couldn't risk her finding him out and ruining any chance he had at forgiveness. She couldn't know. Not yet. "Name's C-Crawford. I'd s-s-say Carter's an improvement." he paused, keeping his eyes on her deft fingers as she worked. "And you're...Pers-s-sephone," he said, acting as if he had to search his memory for her name. As if he could forget. ooc| --

[Persephone Todd]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 453px; height: 625px; background-image:url(http://i41.tinypic.com/xogwn5.jpg)] It was a short-lived triumph. Seph wouldn’t have really cared if not for the personality of this particular fellow. Getting let down by her memory of names was normal; but folk like Crawford often took that kind of hard, not being able to stick in people’s minds. Perhaps she could still salvage his self-esteem. “Alright, point for you. I forgot your name. I do remember you, though. You’re the bloke with the cool fish irises and the adorable stutter.” Oh, she could just hear the rant her mum would have given her for that. But blast it, he might as well know that’s what she thought of his impediment. He might even feel complimented. And if those compliments somehow sounded like flirting to him, she didn’t care. Seph did have her boy-crazy tendencies. She was okay with that as long as those feelings were kept strictly removed from her job; when the healing process called for contact with the male members of the tribe, she could suppress any girlish glee. Almost. Sort of. She was getting there. When the scent of blood flared up anew, she gladly distracted herself trying not to panic. It soon registered as something small, enough that she left it alone to finish her current task. She needed to figure out where it was coming from, anyway, and that was best done by scent. Unfortunate, really, considering she’d rather just stow her rhinophores away completely. The presence of a newcomer, which she assumed he was, always did that to her. That was one other thing she could actually remember about him. It was there, underneath his wild, lonely smell that bore only faint traces of others’ scent signatures. The odor of blood and sweat wasn’t blocking it out, either. Most likely he was a recent addition to the dome; all the newcomers smelled strongly of the labs. She noted with some interest that there was something different about it this time. Some new little twist on it that almost made it more disquieting. She wasn’t sure what that was about, and she didn’t really want to know. If there’d been some sort of change in the keepers’ lair, Seph didn’t plan on visiting to see the renovations. She hadn’t asked him about it last time. It was a delicate subject, the sort that could make someone like this Crawford chap completely shut down to conversation. She was curious enough to try asking, though, in a roundabout way. As long as she kept it nonchalant and didn’t get into anything too touchy, it should be fine, right? This was their second meeting, and he’d already had his chance to fill this little silence. Besides, it was something he was going to have to come to terms with one day, and of course Seph thought it was her job to help. Not too early to start working towards that, however gradually. “Sooooo, are you new to the dome? I mean, I know you haven’t been in the tribe for too long, but you still smell a bit like the labs.” o.o.c. – Meh. Shoddy, but at least I kept it short. =D

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 495px; height: 700px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/xeefjr.jpg)] "C-c-cool and adorable?" he said, smiling in spite of himself. This woman had always had such a truth about her, the way she spoke, such an honest soul. "You're not just s-saying that because I'm gonna die and you're not telling me, right?" he said, brows raised quizzically, his face smoothed and serious. "Trying to s-send me out with a s-s-smile on my face, hm?" he said, forgetting himself for a moment. Her touch was soft, and for the briefest of moments he felt comfortable in his own skin. For that small moment, when the breath left his lungs and before he drew in another, he felt content. At ease. He wasn't trapped in someone else's skin, he wasn't living a lie, he was just sitting here next to Persephone Todd. And she was taking care of him, god, someone was taking care of him. He had always been the protector, the healer, the caretaker. But now under her healing hands, he felt all his troubles melt away. Even through the pain of his injuries, all the tension ease and the secrets and guilt were gone. His eyes closed, just to blink, but god in that moment the world was at peace and nothing could go wrong. But the moment ended; air flooded his lungs as he drew in another breath, eyes opened as quickly as they had closed, and the world came rushing back to him. He continued to watch her work, attending to the wound on his arm. He let the silence cloak them, settle and grow long between them as she worked. He didn't quite know what to do, or say. He'd never been a man of many words, at least not of the audible kind. He could write for hours upon hours, but since his life outside had ended he'd yet to pick up a pen. And the word's he'd spoken to Persephone were possibly the most he'd spoken in months to any one living creature. “Sooooo, are you new to the dome? I mean, I know you haven’t been in the tribe for too long, but you still smell a bit like the labs.” He had been absorbed in watching her hands as they worked, though when she spoke it took him a moment to acknowledge that she had. His throat tightened and he kept his eyes facing downward, afraid to look at her. Did she know? No. How could she? If she knew, she wouldn't be treating him so kindly. No, she was trying to boost a shy boy's sad little ego by showing him friendship and kindness. Like she always did, god bless her. He glanced up at her at last, his face smoothed of expression and emotion besides attentive listening. "Relatively new, yes," he said with a nod. "But I feel I've s-seen too much of it already," he said, referring to the ambush, and the wounds. And the death's, that never seemed to end. A Keeper had once remarked that a trail of bodies seemed to follow in his wake. He hadn't said anything to correct the man, finding nothing to correct. ooc; I'm sooo sorry this took so long ;^;

[Persephone Todd]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 497px; height: 1179px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/20ktxt5.png)] “What are you more scared of, the cuts or the compliments?” Flustering him should be enough of a distraction to get her out of answering. Hopefully this bloke would never actually have mortal wounds she was supposed to take care of, because he’d be on to her usual tactics. Maybe that was too much to hope for, given his position as a warrior. This time, at least, his remaining injuries were numerous but inconsequential, not even big enough to have been caused by any weapons. It made her wonder what on earth the rogues had done to him, if he hadn’t done it to himself. At any rate, they weren’t worth the time or effort. If Arty wasn’t used to being roughed up and untreated yet, it would be good for him. With a certain lack of sensitivity, she picked gravel out of a couple of scrapes until he was finished speaking. “Hold that thought, be back in a min.” With that Persephone spun and headed for the nearest doorway. Her overly energetic movements dampened considerably as it occurred to her that dark, strange places were not the best places to wander into alone, particularly since she found herself alone in a dark, strange place as the thought happened by. The next ones would have been equally useful, advice such as get out of Dodge and bring the warrior with you next time. Except the warrior was a bit out of commission, and she was frozen stiff long enough to realize this. With enough will collected to finally move, she somehow made herself move forward rather than backwards and probed the floor with visibly shaking hands. At least if someone jumped out of the shadows at her, she’d likely die from the scare before they could stab her or anything. The moment she touched soft cloth, the girl grabbed it and exited as quickly as she’s entered, for quite different reasons. For something so useful, blankets weren’t terribly uncommon to find lying around – or at least, pieces of fabric able to serve as such. Probably left by someone who expected to come back alive and use them. Seph tried not to think about that, considering the material she found hinted of some young bloke, a dog shifter with no ring to call home, if she read the scent correctly. This didn’t prevent the small anthro from holding her find aloft in triumph once she returned,a nd otherwise acting like her calm had never left. Nor did she seem to think the time gap would have any effect on the flow of conversation. “Kinda gets thrown at you all at once, yeah? Not to worry, old chap, it gets worse. Half the normals are out to get you, you get to know people and they get killed the next day…and I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but the grub isn’t exactly pukka most of the time.” He might as well know what he was in for. Besides, the bloke was a big, stoic type, and they didn’t like sugarcoating, she didn’t think. Or maybe it had just been that one guy. “What ab...wait.” There was something sprinkled across his shoulder blades, unfamiliar but somehow dangerous, almost like... “Blimey, is this poison all over you? Those rogues meant business.” Whether or not that was it, the splotchy girl sponged it off with some extra fabric before going about her business. “I guess the worst part is losing everybody, at first…know what they did with your family?”