Whoops and hollers of a hunt stopped him dead in his frozen tracks -- even more dead? The apparition stiffened either way, dread blanching his features. Armored figures releasing their grip on the hounds' chains clouded his vision, engulfing his senses back to the night everything caught up with him. He needed to escape them. To reach the safety of the forest. To hide until they surrendered their search, or run until his legs buckled and exhaustion left him to be torn apart by dog teeth. The vicious barks pounded inside his head --
But... there wasn't any barking. No dogs. Only a trio of men trampling through the forest after presumably a boar. Beck removed the hands instinctively covering his eyes. He hated when his memories did that, blinding him to reality. Before he could fully recover from his false panic, a purple blur visible through the leafless undergrowth darted past, maybe nine or ten yards ahead and followed by the predicted troupe of noisy pursuers. The boy shrank backward, startled at first before confusion crossed his face. Purple? What type of creature was purple? The peculiar hue stirred his interest, and his curiosity reared its ugly head, beckoning him to give chase. Bony shoulders hunching in defeat, Beck directed a puff of chilled air up at the choppy brown bangs tickling his brow and followed parallel to the path of disturbed foliage.
The trail didn't last much longer than an effortless jog for a few feet; the hunt must have been drawing to a close by the time he glimpsed it. Silently picking his way over dead brambles, Beck peered around a dormant oak to sneak a better view of the purple oddity. The men had their backs towards him, and subsequently, the creature's front wasn't visible, but simply from observing its scaly flanks, a sense of wary familiarity began to tie knots in his stomach. Well, whatever it was, it was about to become a trophy mounted on a wall. Why should I care? It shouldn't have gotten caught in the first place. As he weighed the thought of abandoning the reptilian to natural selection versus intervening and exposing himself to the living again, a crack of bone jarred him, cringing, back to attention. The ensuing bellow of pain twisted his face into a grimace as anger welled up inside his shallow chest.
A blade plunged into the leader's exposed side. The internal warmth of a body quickly shocked him back to his senses, and he stared down at his hand embedded up to his wrist in the man's stomach. Oops. Beck blinked dumbfoundedly, almost impressed before his stare drifted upward to examine the face of the man he stabbed, realization already dawned on him and beginning to clutch at the seeping red in agony. The boy hurriedly wrestled his dagger from the man's gut, yanking it free. Faint steam escaped the wound; the man recoiled from the pinned creature, one hand clasping his abdomen and the other wobbly lifting his sword for a counterattack before he collapsed to the snow. The display seemed to be enough to distract his cohorts long enough to release the reptile, an array of expression shifting across their faces. Beck didn't waste any more time in getting this whole mess over with, taking an almost predatory stance and readying his dagger for another strike.
He paused, a trace of reason tugging the corners of blue lips into an uncertain frown. He swore to her he wouldn't kill again. His promise would be broken in a couple of minutes as the man's blood spilled out into the muddy snow. But one was better than all three, right? Hesitant for a moment, his apparition distorted, revealing his nature to the remaining men. They were swift to shout an alarmed accusation of "demon" or something akin to the entity, and Beck merely bared teeth in response, snarling like the wolves engaged in a fight he'd overheard on rare nights. Abandoning their catch in exchange for keeping their skin, the men stumbled over themselves to flee. Beck watched their retreat with a bitter scowl before he sheathed his dagger back on his own belt. They would be back to retrieve their catch, considering they had already injured it. Figuring he would clean up the mess later, he glanced at his hand painted with blood, splaying his fingers to admire the red ooze strung between and forming a visceral webbing of sorts. That was one way to cure his prior boredom. Entranced, Beck easily forgot about the creature behind him, oblivious to its legendary status.
[align=center]»――➤But... there wasn't any barking. No dogs. Only a trio of men trampling through the forest after presumably a boar. Beck removed the hands instinctively covering his eyes. He hated when his memories did that, blinding him to reality. Before he could fully recover from his false panic, a purple blur visible through the leafless undergrowth darted past, maybe nine or ten yards ahead and followed by the predicted troupe of noisy pursuers. The boy shrank backward, startled at first before confusion crossed his face. Purple? What type of creature was purple? The peculiar hue stirred his interest, and his curiosity reared its ugly head, beckoning him to give chase. Bony shoulders hunching in defeat, Beck directed a puff of chilled air up at the choppy brown bangs tickling his brow and followed parallel to the path of disturbed foliage.
The trail didn't last much longer than an effortless jog for a few feet; the hunt must have been drawing to a close by the time he glimpsed it. Silently picking his way over dead brambles, Beck peered around a dormant oak to sneak a better view of the purple oddity. The men had their backs towards him, and subsequently, the creature's front wasn't visible, but simply from observing its scaly flanks, a sense of wary familiarity began to tie knots in his stomach. Well, whatever it was, it was about to become a trophy mounted on a wall. Why should I care? It shouldn't have gotten caught in the first place. As he weighed the thought of abandoning the reptilian to natural selection versus intervening and exposing himself to the living again, a crack of bone jarred him, cringing, back to attention. The ensuing bellow of pain twisted his face into a grimace as anger welled up inside his shallow chest.
A blade plunged into the leader's exposed side. The internal warmth of a body quickly shocked him back to his senses, and he stared down at his hand embedded up to his wrist in the man's stomach. Oops. Beck blinked dumbfoundedly, almost impressed before his stare drifted upward to examine the face of the man he stabbed, realization already dawned on him and beginning to clutch at the seeping red in agony. The boy hurriedly wrestled his dagger from the man's gut, yanking it free. Faint steam escaped the wound; the man recoiled from the pinned creature, one hand clasping his abdomen and the other wobbly lifting his sword for a counterattack before he collapsed to the snow. The display seemed to be enough to distract his cohorts long enough to release the reptile, an array of expression shifting across their faces. Beck didn't waste any more time in getting this whole mess over with, taking an almost predatory stance and readying his dagger for another strike.
He paused, a trace of reason tugging the corners of blue lips into an uncertain frown. He swore to her he wouldn't kill again. His promise would be broken in a couple of minutes as the man's blood spilled out into the muddy snow. But one was better than all three, right? Hesitant for a moment, his apparition distorted, revealing his nature to the remaining men. They were swift to shout an alarmed accusation of "demon" or something akin to the entity, and Beck merely bared teeth in response, snarling like the wolves engaged in a fight he'd overheard on rare nights. Abandoning their catch in exchange for keeping their skin, the men stumbled over themselves to flee. Beck watched their retreat with a bitter scowl before he sheathed his dagger back on his own belt. They would be back to retrieve their catch, considering they had already injured it. Figuring he would clean up the mess later, he glanced at his hand painted with blood, splaying his fingers to admire the red ooze strung between and forming a visceral webbing of sorts. That was one way to cure his prior boredom. Entranced, Beck easily forgot about the creature behind him, oblivious to its legendary status.