Hunting The Hunter

[MaiusImperium]

It was cold, it was always bloody cold. The forest was full of tall, aged pine trees and conifers which jutted out from beneath the thick layer of mist than covered much of the land. The forest itself stretched for miles and miles in every direction, it bordered a great lake to the west and the township of Greenveil to the east, north and south were impenetrable mountain ranges, making the easiest way for anyone to reach the town from the lake, or vice-a-versa, a path through the forest. The forest was old, and did not have a name, not in the historical records of Greenveil anyway.

On the periphery of the forest, near Greenveil an unnatural thing was present, a creative certainly not alive but not exactly dead either. The sun was up, it was approaching noon and still the mist had not subsided, the trees within the forest gave it shelter. Under a dark green tarpaulin, the unnatural thing shivered.

Jared was not a very good vampire, he didn’t stalk his meals from the shadows, he didn’t prey upon virginal girls or murder men in cold blood. He didn’t even feed from humans unless he had to and when he did he did so from willing sources. No, Jared was not a very good vampire, not in the typical sense. Nor was he particularly threatening, his smile was wide, his teeth white without a hint of fang. His blue eyes glinted mischievously, his long shaggy brown hair was left unkempt most of the time, and though he was an attractive young man he was more prone to the adjective “cute” rather than “handsome” or “dashing”.

Jared remained under that tarpaulin all day, wary of the sun’s rays, even beneath the canopy of the forest. It was not the best way to avoid the sun, but he had really been given no choice. He cast his thoughts back to that night in Greenveil. Jared had been sired at a young age, he had known no other existence then that of a vampire. Jared was used to disappointing his master, who was a skilled beast of the night, cruel and powerful in many ways, Jared had been taken to be his son, his childer, who would inherit his estate. Jared didn’t have any of the characteristics of a callous vampire count, he enjoyed playing in the river too much, or climbing trees.

Unfortunately Jared’s master had been a good vampire, so good in fact that the townsfolk had finally banded together and stormed the vampire’s keep. Fearing for his life, Jared had fled in the confusion, the cries of his master as they staked him through the heart echoed in the night sky as he had slipped into the forest. The townsfolk would likely not have cared that Jared had never laid a finger on any of the townsfolk. The fact that he was a vampire in the household of another murderous vampire would have been enough proof of guilt for them.

Now he was in quite a pickle, in a forest that he did not know, hidden under sheet of smelly animal hide, waiting for the sun to go down. He played counting games with himself until the sun went down.

When the time came finally to move, Jared pulled back the tarpaulin to find the forest in pitch darkness, he couldn’t even see the moon above him because of the trees. Jared’s eyes had no difficulty adjusting to the darkness, his sight was much keener than that of a human. His story was a sorry one, there was no mistake, but Jared wasn’t a push over. His strength was many times that of a man, his senses were sharper and he was quite good at moving unnoticed through the darkness.

Still, he was hungry now. As fortune would have it, a family of rabbits were scampering through the darkness just before him, on their way back to their burrow no doubt for sleep. He didn’t waste any time, and with inhuman speed he pounced, catching one in his hands perfectly. It wriggled and struggled and tried to gnaw on him, but Jared didn’t waste any time. His teeth sharpened, his fangs glinted in the darkness of his mouth as he sank his fangs into the animal.

Jared rank deep for a few minutes, it did not take long to for him to drain the small animal and his hunger was sated, for a while at least. He discarded the dead rabbit, leaving it beneath the tree he had hidden against during the day, two fang punctures giving the only clues to it’s death.

Then he was off, into the darkness of the forest, only vaguely away of the direction he was going in, west, towards the lake many, many miles away.

--------------------------------------------------

Closed thread for myself and Erin_

 

[Erin_]

Mason paused, tossing his head in agitation, a silent signal to his mistress that she did not miss. Tarla leaned over the stallion's sleek neck, patting him lightly, ice blue eyes peering ahead into the dimness. The ranger's every sense, so highly attuned to the ebb and flow of life within her beloved forest, was open, drinking in the quiet whispers of the life around her. The dark thick vegetation before her that so captured her steed's attention was obviously disturbed. Some creature had forced its way through the dense underbrush.

Smoothly, the half elf swung one leather clad leg over Mason's barrel, dropping lightly to the ground, landing silently in a crouch and moving forward. At her side, Mason made no sound, though his tawny ears were perked forward, liquid dark eyes wide, almost wild. "Shhhh...easy mela..." Tarla's voice was low and soothing as she moved to Mason's head, lifting his sleek muzzle and blowing gently into his nostrils. It was rare indeed for her beloved stallion to be so upset.

Those who knew the ranger, who had seen her interact with the folk of the wood, or perhaps had seen during one of her rare visits to the villages that thrived nearer to rivers and trade routes, would have been shocked to see her tenderness, her care. She was percieved as cold and haughty. She told no tales, and answered questions rarely. Her hands were sword calloused, her body sleekly muscled. The elven blood that flowed in her veins gave her more grace than a normal human, it was evident in her stride, in the easy way she sat her horse, and most of all when she fought. It also gave her soft skin as pale as moonbeams, and a rich fall of long golden curls that she sometimes adorned with wildflowers. But there was no matching warmth in her smile, nor in her pale ice blue eyes.

She was intolerant of fools and especially intolerant of amorous fools. More than one man had died by her blades while seeking to court her. But those deaths were old, generations had passed since the last time she had had to take a life for such a foolish reason.

She had been guarding the lands in which she dwelled for centuries now, and though her visits to the growing towns and villages were rare, she was very well known. There existed now a level of respect between the ranger and the folk of the land.

When Mason was finally calmer, Tarla turned again towards the strange clue, examining the ground nearby, finding clear human tracks littered around the area. That only confused her more. They were leagues from any trade route....and more than two tendays of treacherous mountain trails stood between the spot and any sizeable human habitations. The edges of the tracks were smoothed out, fading, and Tarla judged the trail to be at least three days old.

Crawling into the brush, she found it to be confining, but found no other signs of a camp. No signs of fire or waste, nothing. Someone, a male by his tracks and stride, had taken shelter here.

But for Mason's reaction, Tarla would have let it lie. But the horse even now was trembling, sweating as he kept his place, steadfast as always regardless of how terrified he was.

Tarla patted his neck once more as she strode past, seeking other clues. A splash of red against a leafy green bough caught her eye, and she crouched, ice blue eyes noting a drop of blood on a shining green leaf. It did not take her long to find the rabbit carcass...and after that the puzzle was easy to piece together.

"Vampire." She hissed the word, moving back to Mason. She had learned enough here to know which direction the creature had taken.

Swinging herself up into the saddle, she pressed her knees tightly into Mason's side, urging the horse into a smooth cantor, holding out her left arm as she did so and whistling. There was an answering call, but this was no whistle, it was a great cry, accompanied by the beating of powerful wings. Tarla had long ago given up on trying to watch Hakyre approach her. The hawk was just too fast for her. She felt the weight of the bird on her arm, the tight pressure of those powerful talons digging into her flesh, even through the leather bracers that she wore on her forearms.

Mason, long since used to the great hawk stooping upon him, did not lose his stride, and soon the trio burst through the heavy foilage into a sunny clearing. Tarla reined Mason in with a soft word, the horse slowing as Tarla turned her attention to the hawk. Ice blue eyes met one fierce golden one as Hakyre cocked his head, listening as Tarla whispered to him, telling him what she wanted of him. To find the vampire, to seek him out from the skies, while she did from the land.

Vampires were unnatural creatures who preyed on the blood, the life force of other living things. No taint such as that would be permitted sustenance from the land that Tarla had sworn to protect.

Dark clouds suddenly obscured the sun, and the wind lifted tendrils of Tarla's long golden hair, held back from her eyes by a simple piece of braided leather. Ears that were slightly tapered peeked out from that rich mane of golden tresses. Glancing upwards, the rangers ice blue eyes narrowed, gaging the time, knowing that rain would fall soon. She had to have the trail firmly in hand by then, or risk losing it.

Lifting her arm upwards, she sent the hawk soaring, his great wings beating powerfully, bearing him further and further aloft. "Help him Meilikki." She whispered a soft prayer to her goddess. "And help me."

 

[MaiusImperium]

Jared travelled deep into the forest that day, he moved nimbly and quickly, his motions smooth and graceful, though occasionally he would trip on some unseen rock or bracken. His lineage afforded him a certain amount of nimble dexterity but this forest was unfamiliar territory.

Luckily his eyesight was keen, otherwise he would surely have stumbled into a pot hole or gone off the edge of a ledge by now, it was pitch black. The forest was never quiet, not in the day or the night, live teemed and bustled, animals and birds in the day and at night nocturnal furry creatures scurried after berries and insects buzzed. All in all it wasn’t a very pleasant place to the insects molested him constantly, though he was grateful the midges didn’t bite too much, vampire blood did not flow very quickly and provided them with very little sustenance. It was a small mercy.

Long into the night Jared travelled, he didn’t stop for a second a second meal and carried on unabated. He wasn’t following any real path, there the dirt track he had followed at the beginning of his journey had long faded into the bracken, but his sense of direction was quite sharp and he knew he was still head east. Occasionally he would have to leap across a stream or walk around a sharp drop in the relief but he returned eastwards always.

Overhead he heard the shrill call of a hawk, then he heard it whistling through the forest canopy, leaves and tree branches cracking and rustling as it flew. Jared had to duck sharply as it came whistling towards him, he winced as he felt the talons catch his ear lightly, causing a small drop of blood to drip down his earlobe. Strange, what on earth was a hawk doing flying at night? And in the forest canopy no less, it surely couldn’t have mistaken him for a vole or a mouse.

The hawk had brought him out of the walking daze he had gotten himself into and he decided to stop again for the night. The sun was beginning to rise already, through patches in the leaves above he could see the starts beginning to fade in the midnight blue sky. The thirst had returned, Jared looked around for another meal. It took him quite a while before he found a small burrow in a tree where a group of vole’s sheltered. He fed on several of them, draining them of life to sustain his own. They weren’t much of a meal, even four of them provided less blood than what he had gleaned from the hare in the evening before he set out. It was better than nothing.

Jared shivered, it was bitterly cold and his spirits were low when he shuffled into the alcove of a hollow tree trunk three times bigger than he was. When he finally pulled the tarpaulin he carried over his head, he was miserable and fed up. The forest was asphyxiating, it closed in around him, cloying the air and tripping his feet up at every turn, and though he had only been in it a day he felt as though he would never get out of it.

 

[Erin_]

For all of that day, the hawk soared over the vast canopy of trees, fierce golden eyes seeking the creature his mistress had whispered to him of. At sundown, he paused only long enough to catch a trout that swam too close to the surface of the lake, perching in a dead tree off of the lakeshore, devouring his catch while the dying sun glittered off the shimmering scales.

Once the sun had set, it was the hawk's instincts to find a perch and sleep, but his mistresses' need had been great. The hawk was her familiar, was the physical manifestation of the ranger's link to Meilikki, the goddess of the forest.

And so Hakyre soared on, through the twilight, and into the darkness of night. The great hawk saw a form pushing through the dense underbrush, reacting immediately, falling into a stoop, talons extended, wings thrust out behind him. He burst through the canopy of trees, nearly landing on the creature's shoulder. This close, there was no mistake.

Voicing a piercing cry that resonated with anger, with righteous fury, the hawk grabbed at the vampire's shoulder, tearing away a few strands of silken hair, and a bit of cloth, cutting into the vampire's ear. The sharp smell of blood reached the hawk, but he did not attack again, as instinct told him to.

Great wings beat, bearing the hawk aloft, his prizes still clutched in his talons. The rumour of his powerful wings heard by the vampire long after the majestic creature had disappeared.

He did not go far. Only roosted high up in a tree, one golden eye canted towards the direction he knew his ranger travelled.

Tarla and Mason pushed on even after the sun had set, the trail they followed was easy enough, it had grown clearer and clearer with each passing league.

It did not look as the though vampire intended to take up residence in her lands, that was something. But not enough. The ranger had sworn an oath to her goddess, to protect her lands, and suffering a vampire to pass through those lands was unthinkable.

Her hand tapped Mason's sleek neck twice, a silent signal for the stallion to stop, and he did, all four hooves planted firmly on the ground, making no noise that might betray them.

Tarla slid easily from the saddle, moving forward to study the trail. Reassured that they were still following the creature, she nodded to Mason, who tossed his head, trotting up to her, his soft nose sniffing in her pockets, her vest, for any tidbits of food. The two of them had been travelling non-stop since they had first found the trail, and the horse was hungry.

Tarla chuckled, shaking her head, "Later my friend...no time for such luxuries as supper." But she allowed the horse to graze a little, ice blue eyes watching him with affection.

Hakyre stirred, cocking his head more fully to the side, ruffling his feathers as the wind whispered around him. Tarla was nearby, the hawk could sense it. Launching himself from the tree, the hawk cried again, hearing that answering whistle that he loved so well.

Mason whickered happily when he heard the hawk, knowing that it meant he'd have more time to eat, munching contentedly on the soft sweet grasses, making Tarla laugh.

Hakyre landed on Mason's saddle, golden eyes watching his ranger steadily. Tarla saw immediately what was clutched in the bird's talons, moving to the hawk and stroking his crest lightly, praising him as she eased his talons open to examine the presents. "Well done my lovely."

Ice blue eyes were bent on the little scrap of cloth that rested in her palm, one finger lifting to touch it. Velvet, and finely made too...the vampire was dressed richly. The strands of hair told her that he was dark haired, the length what was considered fashionable in the more well populated lands, those that Tarla hardly ever visited.

"Well done." She murmured again to her hawk. "Rest Hakyre, we will continue the journey." Pocketing those small clues her hawk had brought her, Tarla swung herself back up into the saddle, picking up the trail again.

 

[MaiusImperium]

The setting of the sun it was time once more for Jared to rise once more. Pale fingers pulled the tarpaulin off him and he prepared himself for another day in the thick forest. He didn’t find anything edible that night and so he plunged on into the forest, still moving in more or less a straight line westwards.

The forest was never quiet, he missed the silence and calm of his master’s keep, though he certainly didn’t miss his master and would not shed a tear for his death. Those fatal screams were etched into his waking memory and every time he thought about them he had to suppress a shiver. It could have been him, it could have so easily been him. Fate had decided there was more in store for Jared, the skein had wove him into a thread that was not to be cut for a good long while yet, he knew it in his bones, instinctively.

For most of the evening and night there was little to unsettle Jared, though his mind dwelt on the hawk that had attacked him yesterday night. Normally those birds were not nocturnal, they didn’t fly ‘neath forest canopies and if they attacked someone they usually made more than a single swoop. There was something odd about that, though he was no bird expert and he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was no point worrying about it too much, all he could focus on was what he could do something about.

Just as he was thinking of bedding down before the morning came he heard hushed tones. The two men who spoke though they were hushed tones at least, to Jared’s ears they may as well have been shouting.

“I’m tired of this place Janich. Let’s just head back home.” Complained one, as they walked through the forest the noise of twigs and leaves breaking under their feet became louder. With lightning quick reflexes Jared climbed soundlessly up a broad oak tree. His movements were fluid and fast, he made little noise as he scurried up the tree and hid in the branches, by the time the two men were beneath him he was silent and unmoving in the trees.

“We can’t go back yet. Think of the reward! Two-hundred crowns. We could live on that much for more than a year!” The two argued with each other, much to Jared’s dismay they stopped underneath him, the one called Janich leant against the tree and began to sit down.

“I’m tired, let’s rest here for a while. I’m fed up of walking around in the bloody dark.” Jared dare not stir, he hung in the branches, praying they would take his weight.

“We track him at night time because there’s more chance of us picking his movements up while he’s moving around you fool. He sleeps in the day.” The argument continued for a good long while, Jared didn’t pay much attention to it, though he silently begged them to move on, to find anther tree to rest under.

The brittles branch that his feet rested on creaked and a small twig fell from the tree and landed in the fire the two men had just started.

“What was that?-“

“Nothing, probably just a squirrel.” Another snap, Jared knew the branches were about to give way. He did the only thing he could, he leapt from the tree willingly, landing smoothly.

“By God! Get him!” The sound of metal grinding against metal rang out through the forest as the two men tried to defend themselves, but Jared had startled them. With the element of surprise he quickly dispatched the two of them, using his superior strength and speed to his advantage. In a few short seconds there were two dead men strewn before a camp fire, their bodies limp, their necks twisted at unnatural angles.

He fed that night, he fed well. Jared did not gorge himself on blood too often, but that night there was no telling where his next meal would come from. He drained both their corpses dry, their skin went pallid, their skin hung loosely on their bones by the time he had finished. When he was done he took one of the men’s swords. It was not a particularly well-balanced sword, but Jared had some skill with blades, taught to him by his sire. The two men held little else of value, a few coins of silver which he palmed. Judging from the quality of their clothe and the poor standard of their equipment they were obvious poor and desperate hunters.

He left the corpses in the open, there was no need to hide his movements and he didn’t have the time to bury them anyway, there may have been more in the area. Invigorated by their blood he carried on his journey through the forest for a while longer, until finally the rising of the sun prompted him to cover up and try and sleep again.

 

[Erin_]

The pale pink light of dawn was just beginning to blush over the tops of the trees when she and Mason came upon the corpses.

Tarla dismounted smoothly, shaking off the fatigue she felt, examining the bodies. It was easy to see what had killed them...but there was more to the tale than that.

The blonde half elven ranger stood for a long time looking down at the shriveled, dried up remains. These were not men that the creature she hunted had stalked. They had come across his trail...and from what she could see, it had not been an accident.

Only one of the men carried a blade, but that did not ring true either. Ice blue eyes narrowed as Tarla crouched, trying to understand the puzzle that was set before her. The man's blade was drawn...he had not been caught completely unawares by the vampire, but the kills were messy.

Exhaling, Tarla moved closer, noting the blood, so much was wasted. It looked as if it was the vampire who had been surprised.

Further complicating the puzzle were the identities of the men themselves. Tarla had never seen them before, their clothing was foreign to her. She rubbed the light fabric of one of their cloaks between two fingers. It was dyed a color that she had not seen in any of the small villages and homesteads in her lands.

Their pockets were rifled through, the vampire had clearly scrounged, taking whatever the two men had that was of value. Tarla did find wooden stakes though. Each of the men carried two. She took the four of them, placing them in Mason's saddle bag.

It took her the better part of two hours to bury the men. The sun was still low enough on the horizon to stave off most of the day's heat. She was not a creature of introspection. She did not often examine her feelings, did not often admit to any feelings at all. And so, when she slid into her saddle again to follow the trail of the creature, she was surprised to realize that she felt a grudging respect.

He had been hunted...and he had managed to elude his hunters.

A grim smile graced her full lips. A rare occurence indeed for the cold and stoic ranger, accompanied by a pat of Mason's sleek neck. The vampire might have evaded one set of hunters...but there were more that he would not escape so easily.

For a time they left the cover of the trees, travelling across the wide meadows where the wind blew strongly, unharried by leaf and bough. Tarla tilted her face up towards the sun, ice blue eyes closed as she drank in that blessed warmth, listening to the whispering sounds of the wind through the grasses. Mason tossed his head, whickering and Tarla froze, sure she heard something carried on the wind.

She spoke a single word and Mason stood still, unmoving, allowing the ranger to listen, keen ears straining to hear more. But there was nothing save the blowing wind. Tarla urged Mason into a trot, shaking her head, sure that she had heard the words mercy...compassion murmured by the wind.

It was full dark by the time the trail ended. The half elf's keen eyes could see in the darkness, not as well as the vampire's certainly, or as a full blooded elf's, but well enough. Mason blew softly, his ears pinned back, terror threatening to overtake him now that they were so close to the creature. Only Tarla's reassuring presence kept him from bolting.

Tarla slid from her saddle, senses straining to catch some sign of the creature, knowing they were close. There was no sound save for the soft sounds Mason made. She had not drawn her blade yet, but her hand rested on its hilt. ~Meilikki guide me.~ The ranger prayed, surprised when she heard a soft answering whisper.

~I am with you, ranger mine.~

 

[MaiusImperium]

It was one of those strange coincidences of fate that Jared woke up quietly to find the hunched silhouettes of a woman and a horse almost right in front of him. A most fortunate coincidence that they had come upon him as night descended, had they find him in the day he would have been powerless.

As it was Jared was paralysed by fear, his eyes stared at the woman and the horse from the darkness for what seemed like hours. He watched her carefully, waiting, praying that she would give up the search and move on. It was no stretch of the imagination to think that she was tracking him, he had been hunted already by those two men the night before. This woman was a different proposition, from her movements he could tell she was at home in the forest, unlike the men he had slain and her movements were fluid and quiet. A ranger? It would make sense, he could tell from her scent that she was half-elven, there hadn’t been many in Greenveil, but he could recognise the scent of one.

Slowly they came closer and closer, they must have been following his trail. Silently Jared cursed himself, if only he’d know he was being followed he’d never have been so blatant in his movements. Slowly he shifted back, but came up against the tree he had fallen asleep against, there was no chance of slipping away quietly when she was so close to him already. It would not take long for her to turn over the leathery sheet that covered him. His mind was racing, thinking desperate of a way to escape.

She was barely five paces away from him when finally his nerve broke and survival instincts kicked in. He hissed loudly and throw the tarpaulin from his body towards the woman. He didn’t wait to see if it hit her or the horse, either way it would prove a distraction. Her horse whickered loudly and he fled, not across the ground but up the tree he was against.

He scuttled up the rough bark of the tree, more like a spider or a monkey than a human. His limbs were strong and he was dextrous, climbing the tree was not difficult though at times he did slip on the mossy bark. It seemed the whole forest was alighted by his movements, branches rustled, he woke up sleeping finches which screamed and chirped loudly. There was no way he could remain silently in the tree, though at least her horse would be of no advantage if he stayed in the trees.

With that in mind he took to leaping from tree to tree, it was difficult and dangerous, vampire or no if he slipped and fell he could well snap his own neck, which would still paralyse him of not kill him like it would a mortal. So he fled, kicking up hell with every leap, trees rustled loudly as he leap from one to the other, using his inhuman strength.

She could track him, but had he ran across the ground she would likely have run him down from the back of her horse, all there was for him to do now was run like the wind through the trees and pray she would become bored of his game.

 

[Erin_]

Mason screamed in fear, rearing and plunging. Tarla dove sideways, avoiding the thrown tarp that hit Mason's chest. The ranger hit the ground hard with her shoulder, rolling and coming up to her feet quickly, her blade drawn before she had risen completely.

For the moment Mason was forgotten. The tawny horse bolted, but Tarla knew he would not go far.

The ranger was however, completely taken by surprise when the vampire fled. The tip of her blade lowered and she looked up, watching him make his noisy progress through the trees.

By rights, he should have attacked. He had her off guard, taken by surprise, but instead of pressing his advantage, he had fled. Tarla followed his trail, which was no great feat, watching his progress through the trees and wondering at what sort of creature he was.

He behaved like no vampire she had ever known before, and for the smallest moment, the cold and stoic ranger felt flickerings of compassion, even pity. Even as she tracked him, she remembered how wild and terrified his eyes had been when he leaped up from his hiding place.

She had been moving silently beneath him, monitoring his progress for almost a mile when she made up her mind to end the hunt. Whistling loudly, she called for Mason. It was nearly another mile before the horse found her, dancing up nervously, tossing his head. Tarla did not have the time to calm him just now, she only moved to the saddlebags he carried, untying the leather thong that held her bow and quiver.

Shouldering the quiver, she murmured a single, distracted word to Mason, the elven word for Pace. The horse would remain out of sight, but would always be nearby.

Her bow clenched in her left hand, the ranger paid no more attention to her horse, keen ice blue eyes cast upwards, seeking the disturbance that the vampire left when he passed through the tree branches. It did not take her long to find him again.

Bringing up her bow, she drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, drawing the bowstring back and sighting along the straight arrow. "Stop!" Her voice was cold, commanding, carrying far into the forest. "An arrow is just as good as a stake to the heart. I have no problems dropping you where you scurry."

Even as she spoke, she was surprised by her words. What stopped her from killing the creature outright? Getting a clear shot was difficult, but certainly not impossible. Why had she spoken to the creature at all?

The words whispered on the wind in the meadow came back to her, and Tarla's eyes narrowed to slits. She did not like to be toyed with. Drawing her bowstring back another two inches she loosed her arrow, aiming not for the creature's heart, but for his hand, a warning shot that made her snarl angrily. Why had she given him a warning shot? What in the goddess' name was the matter with her?

"Stop! I won't ask again!"

And she meant it. She was through playing, through trying to puzzle out the strange circumstances of this meeting. Her next shots would be to kill.

 

[MaiusImperium]

"Stop!"

He heard the voice of a woman below, it had to be the ranger. Jared didn’t pay too much heed to it at first, he scrambled from branch to branch like a gymnast and carried on his way. When a arrow whistled towards him he jinked sharply to the side, he let out a grunt as he felt the arrow clip his hand and rattle into some leaves on the tree he was in. Unfortunately Jared now hung precariously from a branch that was making unhealthy splintering noises, he clung desperately with his good hand while the other oozed stagnant blood which dripped steadily onto the mossy ground below.

"Stop! I won't ask again!"

As if in answer the branch he was clinging onto broke, and nearly snapped off completely. Jared fall a sharp inch as the branch broke, but somehow the branch managed to stay in tact. He reached vainly for another branch thick enough to support his weight and found none within reach.

“It doesn’t look like I have much choice.” True to form the branch snapped and he felt himself fall through the air. Thankfully me managed to land his feet on the mossy grace, and with cat-like grace he dusted his short off with his clean hand. He winced as he held his hand up to the moonlight and licked at it, shooting the woman an uneasy glance. This close up her scent was apparent, she had Elvish blood in her veins, though she was not a pure breed. In Greenveil there were a few half-elves, not many, but enough for Jared to be able to tell the difference in their scent to that of normal humans. Jared hoped their hatred for vampires had been exaggerated in the stories his sire had told him.

“Well, it appears you’ve caught yourself a vampire.” He said glumly as he licked at his wound like a cat, his saliva worked to clot the blood faster than normal. It was how Jared fed, when he had taken his share from a human victim he would lap at the wounds until the wounds were closed, it was the only way a vampire could feed from the neck, or the femoral artery without the subject bleeding to death.

“I expect you shall want to kill me now.” It was a flat statement, there was no point in being rude or angry. He knew had his sire been caught in such a way he would snarl and make proclamations if dire torture and pain to his captor. Of course, his sire probably would have never been caught in the first place, he would have likely killed this woman already. If he ever survived Jared determined to become a better vampire, and by better he did of course mean a more bloodthirsty vicious on, like in the stories.

“Or have you come for the bounty like those other hunters did, have you come to take me back to Greenveil? I should imagine being burned alive by them wouldn’t be half as bad as what you’re concocting, she-elf.”

 

[Erin_]

Ice blue eyes were narrowed to cold slits, another arrow was notched, the gleaming tip following the vampire's tumbling progress from the treetops to the ground, her hand holding steady even as the creature rose.

The danger grew exponentially the longer that she let the creature live. She knew that. Every fiber in her being screamed at her to loose her arrow, to slay the thing that snarled before her.

But she did not.

“Well, it appears you’ve caught yourself a vampire. I expect you shall want to kill me now. Or have you come for the bounty like those other hunters did, have you come to take me back to Greenveil? I should imagine being burned alive by them wouldn’t be half as bad as what you’re concocting, she-elf.”

When he spoke of bounty hunters, her mind shifted to those corpses she had found along his trail. So those men had come to take him somewhere...or perhaps just to slay him. She had suspected as much, hadn't she?

Valar what was the matter with her? Her hand drew back her bowstring that much further, her fingertips a heartbeat away from releasing when she heard the familiar beating of great wings, the piercing call of her beloved Hakyere.

It was full night now. The hawk should have been roosting comfortably atop some lofty perch, but something had called it from its rest. Tarla lowered her bow, releasing the taut bowstring slowly, dissipating the deadly energy benignly. Ice blue eyes were no longer focused on the vampire, but on the hawk, her hawk, that was now seated on his shoulder.

"It appears we have some things to discuss." Her words were meant for the vampire, but her eyes were still on the golden hues of Hakyere, who watched her steadily, his head cocked to the side.

The arrow that had been poised to take the vampire's life was returned to her quiver, and the ranger strode forward, holding out her arm, grimacing when the hawk settled his weight on her forearm, his talons digging into her flesh.

"I am Tarla." She had never stood so close to a vampire before and not been locked in combat.

 

[MaiusImperium]

Jared let out a breath of relief and let the tension leave his body as the elf ranger lowered her bow and let tense bowstring go loose. She’d had him in her grasp, with the tiniest movement of her finger she could have let the arrow go and now he would be dead. The arrogant vampire sneered at her for showing such weakness, yet the human was grateful and ashamed at the conflicted thoughts that swam in his head.

Jared eyed the bird perched on her arm warily, the elf must have trained it well for it not to fly off or attack him. Animals had far keener senses than humans, and they rarely tolerated the presence of the undead, vampires especially drove them into a vicious frenzy. No one wanted to associate with a blood-drinker. Then the elf did something he did not expect, she came a little closer. For the briefest moment he considered leaping and taking her, he could feel his fangs sharpen slightly at the anticipation. With her bow lowered he could rip the throat from out of her in the blink of an eye. That was the vampire talking, the survivalist that said living things were either a potential meal or a potential predator, the human made him ashamed, she had shown trust in him and lowered her weapon.

"I am Tarla."

“My name is Jared.” He returned the greeting and dusted off the shirt he was wearing; it was finely cut and made of silk, certainly not designed for outdoor wear, and it was torn and tattered in a few places from his flight through the trees. For a moment his cerulean eyes looked up at the forest canopy, it was high in the air and he could not but help allow himself a small nod of satisfaction at how high he’d managed to climb to evade her.

“My sire was killed in Greenveil. I have been fleeing from that village ever since. I meant no disrespect to your forest, I meant only to cross it until I reached the other side.” He was reluctant to tell her any more about his sire, his name was infamously known in some parts as that of a butcher and torturer of mortals. Mortals needed no excuse to kill a vampire as it was, and he was sure his lineage would damn him even more surely if he told her that.

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

“My sire was killed in Greenveil. I have been fleeing from that village ever since. I meant no disrespect to your forest, I meant only to cross it until I reached the other side.”

Tarla did not respond, turning away from the vampire, not quite offering her back to him. She did not trust him enough for that. She whistled once, a loud piercing call reminscent of a hawk. Hakyere on his perch ruffled his feathers a bit in irritation at the sound. Tarla only listened for the sound of Mason's hoofbeats, turning to look at Jared once she had heard them.

"And once you were through these lands? Where then did you plan to go?"

Ice blue eyes fixed the vampire with a piercing gaze. "I know those men were hunting you, but I do not know why." Her impatience was clear in her cold gaze, and she had spoken her frustration clearly, to anyone who had the insight to see.

Meilikki had drawn her to this vampire, urged her to spare his life. And Tarla had no idea why.

Mason trotted up to them then, his dark liquid eyes wide, rolling wildly in his head as he stamped and pawed at the earth, snorting furiously. Tarla spoke a single word in elven to him, and the stallion calmed outwardly. The half elf moved to his side, stroking his sleek form, feeling the muscles fairly tremble beneath her touch.

"He doesn't like vampires." It was a stupid thing to say...most animals as a rule did not like vampires. But dammit...Tarla was running out of things to discuss.

"Let's cut to the chase bloodsucker." She did not use his name, the anger crackling once more in her eyes. "I don't know why I was led to you and then led to spare you. But I do not believe it is some random occurrence." She watched him over Mason's back, "Haril is the ranger in the lands near Greenveil. I know him well."

That was true, but what she did not say was that many seasons had passed since she had last seen Haril.

"I think we should start our journey with him." It did not occur to her that he might not wish to return to Greenveil.

 

[MaiusImperium]

This half-elf called Tarla seemed…fiery, to put it politely. Someone less tactful might have called her unstable, Jared could almost feel the anger roiling off her body. He couldn’t help but feel infused but it’s strength. Jared had always fed on blood, most vampires did, but a few fed from emotions, Jared’s master had been a half-breed, feeding off blood and emotion, and he’d passed on a small amount of that to Jared. Emotion alone would never sustain him, but he could feel them, even taste them. Stronger emotions were best, fear, lust and anger were the most primal, and thus the ones vampires sought out most. Jared would have settled for much less anger at the moment.

"I think we should start our journey with him."

Jared had listened, his eyes growing wider with greater and greater incredulity as she spoke. Was she mad? The ranger Haril that she spoke of would almost certainly know his master, and when he found out he would seek to kill him, almost certainly. He had expected Tarla to kill him, and now he expected Haril to kill him, a lot of unexpected things had happened this night, and it was still young.

“And how am I supposed to trust that this Haril will not be able to exercise his restraint the way you have? I can feel the anger pouring off you, you hate my kind, she-elf. I cannot say I am overly fond of Elven kind, half-breed or not.” He did not like the idea of recovering all that ground again, he had spent days trying to get away from Greenveil, to elude it’s hunting parties, and now she wanted him to go back, back into the lion’s den. Jared sighed softly and fidgeted with the wrists of his shirt uncomfortably.

“I will come back with you, but you must give me your word that Haril will not harm me. The word of a ranger is sacrosanct, if I read the lore correctly. The woodland…spirits will bind you to the promise.” He couldn’t help but speak of the spirits half-heartedly, he’d never believed in that, he barely had enough room in his life for god, let alone tree-souls that wandered about at night, preying on nymphs and sending visions to rangers who had consumed mushrooms or chewed on black roots beforehand.

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

"If I'd have wanted you dead, then you would be." She stowed her bow in Mason's saddlebag, glancing over her shoulder at the vampire. She did not care for his tone, when he spoke of woodland spirits, but truly, his skepticism did not trouble her overmuch.

Haril would have answers for her. He would probably know the vampire's sire, if not the vampire himself. The old ranger might not be able to tell her why Meilikki had wanted this vampire spared, but he would be a good starting point for her to find out.

Swinging herself up into Mason's saddle, the half elf studied the vampire carefully. Did she hate him? Certainly, she felt that she should. But this vampire looked lost to her. The way he fidgeted with the cuffs of his fine shirt made him seem nervous, and uncertain. He did not seem ferocious or particularly vicious. "For as long as I can remember I was told to hate vampires. Her wrists crossed over the horn of her saddle, ice blue eyes no longer quite so cold as she regarded him. "But for some reason, I was told to spare you. So I must believe that you are different. Perhaps as we travel, you can tell me your tale?"

 

[MaiusImperium]

“I would be happy to tell you my tale, it may not be what your ears wish to hear, but I shall tell it to you none the less,” it wasn’t as though he had much of a choice anyway, he was on her territory now and Jared was no fool. As much as it stung his pride she was probably right, she could kill him if she truly wanted to. He might be able to evade her for a while, but even the forest seemed to be against him. Already he was sick of it, the cloying pollen and scent of tree sap seemed to press in all around him, the forest was repugnantly alive, and it could sense the undead creature crawling through the sickly-sweet moss and lichen that covered it’s ground.

“Perhaps you will come to realise that there are exceptions to every rule. You have a right to feel hatred towards my kind, for we feed off you, but not all of us kill to feed.” Of course it had not always been true, as a younger childer he had killed and fed, indeed he had committed vile acts; but at the behest of his master. In truth he was not looking forward to telling her all of this, but something stirred him to action, there was something about her, a certain aura, that made him think she was a woman of her word, and that perhaps in time, she could be trusted.

His throat felt parched, and the thirst was rising but he fought it back; he knew that he was simply postponing the inevitable, eventually he would have to feed, but for the moment he pushed the thirst down. He certainly wasn’t read to show her than side of him.

Jared brushed a lock of his brown hair from his face; a contrast to his pale skin which now seemed to glow in the moonlight.

“If you intend to take me to this friend of yours, we shall have to travel at night, I cannot survive more than a few hours in the sunlight without permanent damage. Lead the way.” His blue eyes were pale and bright, then shone in the night as a cat’s might, and he waited for Tarla to show him the way.

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

Exceptions to every rule...

Well, that was true, wasn't it? Tarla shook her head, turning Mason towards Greenveil. The grey stallion snorted, his stride rushed, uncertain, and Tarla murmured soothingly to him, calming him somewhat. The ranger glanced again towards the vampire, wondering for the hundredth time what in the name of the green goddess was the matter with her.

"I have wagered much on that fact Jared. You must be an exception." Her ice blue eyes were steady as she regarded him from Mason's saddle. "I know your kind is fast, can you keep up if I ride?" Riding was the only way to keep Mason calm. Later, perhaps, the horse would grow used to the vampire's presence, and they could both ride. For now, that was simply out of the question.

The vampire's eyes, bright blue even in the darkness, were unnerving. But Tarla did not look away. "I know that you will need to feed sometimes." She broached the most difficult subject first. Tarla was a firm believer in directness. It was less painful to pull out an arrow with one sharp tug than it was to try and work it free gradually. So too was it better to get everything out in the open, rather than just dance around a complicated topic.

"Let me know when you must. I will make sure there is some distance between us." She did not know much really, about how vampires fed. She knew that some of them experienced bloodlust that made it impossible to feed without killing, but she could not say for certain what brought on that deep mindless thirst. "It will be a shame to have begun this journey as allies of a sort, only to kill each other on the trail."

They were moving then, their pace slow at first. Tarla was not sure what sort of pace to set for Jared, and Mason's nervousness did not help. "Can you tell your tale as we move? There are still a few hours of darkness remaining. We can make it to the foothills by then, and find a cave to shelter in during the day."

 

[MaiusImperium]

The tension between he, Tarla and even the horse Mason as well was almost palpable, and he didn’t think it would fade any time soon. He would need to gain her trust, and he could already tell was a difficult enough feat to achieve for her those of her own kind, let alone one of her sworn quarries.

Jared did not find the pace Tarla kept atop Mason difficult to match, he followed parallel to her, they seemed to be following a path, if you could call it that. It was more a clearing through the dense foliage of the forest, there were no cobblestones, not even a dirt road, only an absence of weeds and shrubs marked their path. On either side of them the forest leaned in, and the pale silver light shot through the forest canopy above in bright, beautiful rays. The way the moonlight shone through cloud and leaf so clearly was breathtaking, and despite Jared’s discomfort with the forest, he was at his most serene during the night hours, he savoured the moment. After all, Tarla did not strike him as the placid type and wondered anxiously when the next argument would break out between the,

He related his tale in stops and starts, they covered ground fast, Tarla on horseback and Jared jogging along side, dancing over bracken and rocks where the path was not so clear like a wild cat prowling over savannah.

“I was born to mortal servants he had been in my master’s thrall for some time. It was a life devoid of freedom and liberty, but they were provided for and given a relatively lavish quality of life compared to most of the beggars and rag-pickers in Greenveil.” His pace faltered not once, but he could feel the exertion taking it’s toll, before the night was over he would need to feed. Even now he decided it wasn’t worth broaching the subject with her, it upset mortals, and elves especially. She would give him room, she had said, he would be as discreet as possible when the time came.

“I had the dubious honour of earning my master’s affection when I came of age. He was infertile, a curse that afflicts a great many vampires, and so he was not able to sire a child of his own in the most common and effective way.” It was well known amongst vampires that the natural offspring of two mating vampires would be far more powerful than a vampire sired by bite alone, unfortunately (or fortunately, it very much depended on your perspective) there were few vampires left alive who were still fertile and of first, second or third generation (the strongest and most powerful vampires).

“On my eighteenth birthday I was taken from my home and bitten, I was changed over night and fed bloodied, raw flesh through a flat in the door to my cell for three days before the fever abated.” He decided to forgo the darker details, perhaps there were some sides of the beast she did not need to know about, at least not until he had gained her trust. “Anyway, from that point onwards I was raised as his own, I was schooled in the vampyric lore, housed in opulence in my Sire’s palace and privy to his depravations.”

By now the foothills of the south mountain span were looming above them, and just in time. The haze of early dawn was threatening to chase the moon from the night. An owl hooted overhead as the forest canopy cleared and they were under the stars and moon once more, the dark shadows of the mountains above them.

“Tarla, before we take to shelter I must feed…might I suggest you find a suitable cave and I will find something to feed from.”

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

As they rode, her senses were open, alert for any dangers that might cross their path. It was needless though, utterly fruitless, the largest danger by far jogged at her side, keeping pace effortlessly.

Mason was blowing hard, sweat darkening his tawny coat almost to black. Tarla slowed her beloved stallion, patting his sweat soaked neck. The long leagues of hunting the vampire, combined with the endless terror that accompanied Jared's presence took a toll on Mason. "A little longer mela..." She murmured softly to him. The bay's ears flickered in response to his mistress's beloved voice. "...and you can rest."

The stallion shook his head, sweat flying off of him, spattering the foliage nearby, and probably the vampire as well.

The vampire told his tale, and Tarla listened carefully. It was sad, there was no doubt. Jared had not asked for his fate, nor sought it out. She was aware that he might be lying, but she did not think he was. His words echoed the regret he seemed to feel...the sense of loss and resignation. To her mind, they rang with truth.

As she listened, she realized that she wanted to disbelieve him, she wanted to find fault with his actions, to be able to judge him weak in some way. It was impossible though. Based on his tale, he was blameless in becoming a vampire.

In the becoming perhaps, but what of his actions after? Was he blameless in those as well?

“Tarla, before we take to shelter I must feed…might I suggest you find a suitable cave and I will find something to feed from.”

His words tore her free of her reverie, an icy tendril of unease slowly working its way down her spine. She did not like that he hunted her lands. He was a predator that had no place in the natural order. Her eyes lifted, scanning the predawn sky, judging how much time remained before the sun rose.

"Nothing larger than rabbits." Her tone was no where near as cold and commanding as it had been when first they had met. "Please." He had eaten rabbits once before. She had found their remains.

That said, she left him to seek a cave that would shelter him from the deadly sunlight.

 

[MaiusImperium]

The softness of her voice caught him unawares, and for a moment he looked into her eyes and she seemed much more alive, just for a moment she seemed less controlled and cold. Jared nodded gently and slipped back into the forest, swallowed up by the darkness that still lingered before the sun’s arrival. Left alone with his thoughts he felt a little more at ease, they journey had been interesting, there was no doubt of that much at least. His eyes glinted keenly in the darkness, he could hear every rustle of leaf, every movement of the voles, mice and rabbits that inhabited the forest.

His sire had told him that vampires had not always been creatures of fear and the object of hatred. He remembered sitting with his master in the library frequently, the man was a butcher, but a refined one. His library had been filled with books, many of them old and now would never be recovered from the ashes of his lord’s home. When the curse had first been inflicted the vampires had tried to coexist, but it would never work. Not with humans, who feared what they didn’t understand, and elves, who often hated and despised what didn’t fit in with their vision of ‘what should be’. A hope burned in him that one day he could tell her that tale, perhaps she would ask him. It was a strange sensation, hope, he had forgotten what it felt like. But even so, why was there hope? Did he hope to bring her around to his view of things? No…but perhaps he could open her eyes, just a little, given enough time.

Jared was startled by a movement in the bracken and he pounced on the rough foliage with lightning speed, ignoring the scratches and cuts caused by him crashing through the shrubs. His hand felt the soft, warm fur of an animal and it clamped around the creature’s neck, hard as iron. He pulled the creature from the shrubs to find it was a hare. Without hesitation he brought the struggling animal to his mouth and opened. He felt the ache in his jaw as his incisors sharpened and protracted, for a moment he was as grisly as the vampires of old, his face pulled into a rictus of hunger as his monstrous fangs, glinting in the twilight, sank into the hare’s neck. It was over in an instant, his fangs sank into the animal and within a heartbeat it struggled no more. The blood flowed into his mouth and he drank from it hungrily. He was thirsty, he had run all night to keep up with Tarla, and though there was enough here to state him he would have to feed again tomorrow if they kept this pace.

When he was finished he emerged from the forest into the clearing that ran between the tree line and the slopes of the mountains. Tarla was no where to be scene, he sniffed the air and quickly caught her scent, a strange scent that he had now grown to recognise. It hadn’t taken long, Jared had a very keen sense of smell. He followed the smell of Tarla and horse up into the foothills, he hadn’t travelled very far when he realised the scent lead into a small dark opening in the side of the mountain.

“Tarla?”

Gingerly he approached the cave mouth and peeked into the darkness, his eyes cut through the darkness easily and he saw her horse first at the mouth of the cave and Tarla hunched towards the back.

“There you are, I thought for a moment that you had ran off.” He smiled, trying to make light of the situation and slipped into the cave, grateful for it’s shelter. Already the sun was beginning to rise.

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

For herself, she would have chosen a shallower cave. She did not like to be closed in spaces where no air moved. But the cave was not for her.

As she set about making camp within that cave, including setting down a bed of ferns for the vampire, she had a moment of panicked thought. What if he did not return from hunting? She had given him the perfect chance to escape. She had practically patted him on his head and sent him on his way.

The half elf's full lips curved in a savage snarl of rage as she strode towards the entrance to the cave, reaching for Mason's reins. Hakyere's piercing, soul stirring call stopped her, drawing her ice blue eyes upward to where he soared high in the pre dawn sky. A gentle breeze blew around her, stirring the leaves to whisper, and Tarla could swear that she heard those whispers form words. ~Patience, ranger mine.~

Inhaling deeply, Tarla let her breath out slowly,feeling her anger cool. If he had gone, then she would find him again. And this time there would be no mercy, no doubt or hesitation. If he left, he would prove that all she had learned of his kind was true.

That thought made her pause, her eyes lifting once more to her soaring hawk. If he left, it would prove nothing save that he did not trust her. And could she honestly blame him for that?

Mason's soft muzzle lipped her shoulder, drawing Tarla back to the present. The ranger smiled absently, patting his neck lightly. The stallion had had a most trying day, and the journey did not look likely to become any easier for him. Deft fingers loosened his saddle, removing it and his bridle, carrying his tack into the cave along with her saddlebags. When she stepped back into the predawn light, Hakyere greeted her, landing hard on her shoulder, his talons digging in to her flesh even through the reinforced padding she had stitched into her tight leather vest. The hawk's beak rubbed against her scalp, a rare sign of affection from him, and one that made her smile. Lifting her hand, she stroked his splendid breast gently, the downy underfeathers soft against her skin. "You did well today." She spoke softly, with more warmth than any human or elf had ever heard in her voice. "Both of you."

Hakyere lifted from her shoulder, choosing a perch nearby, watching with mild interest as Tarla began to wander the area aimlessly, her eyes focused downward. It did not take her long to find what she was looking for. Crouching, she drew a dagger from a sheath at her thigh, cutting several large bunches of herbs, carrying them to where Mason stood.

Tarla rubbed Mason down briskly with a blend of fresh mint and basil. The leaves and stems were bruised by the rough treatment, releasing their fragrances and their oils on Mason's tawny coat. The horse stretched out his neck, his ears swiveling happily, his eyes half closed in delight, making Tarla laugh.

Several fistfuls of herbs later, Tarla left Mason to graze, returning to the cave to get his brush from her saddlebags.

It was then that she heard her name being called. Jared had returned, and just in time. His form at the entrance of the cave was limned with light from the slowly brightening day.

“There you are, I thought for a moment that you had ran off.” He smiled at her, slipping deeper into the cave towards her. Tarla smiled, about to respond when Mason neighed shrilly, stamping furiously at the entrance of the cave, lunging towards the vampire angrily. He did not like the vampire's presence in the cave with Tarla. "Mason...enough." Tarla walked past Jared to stand beside Mason, turning to look at the vampire. For a long time she did not speak, but finally, she pointed to the bed of ferns that she had made.

"Please rest. I'll be outside for a little while."

Turning, she led Mason out of the cave, brushing him until he shone in the pale light of dawn. Even as the day grew older, the light did not grow much stronger. Tarla glanced towards the western skies, seeing the gathering darkness there. It would rain soon, probably before midday. Covering a yawn with one sword calloused hand, Tarla fed Mason, leaving him to stand guard at the entrance of the cave, where he would be sheltered from the storms.

She moved into the cave then, pulling her saddlebags to her and fishing a crust of waybread from deep within one, taking a few bites before resealing it and placing it back. Glancing towards Jared's still form before settling down herself, Tarla rested her head on her saddle, closing her eyes, breathing in deeply and closing her eyes.

 

[MaiusImperium]

Jared frowned for a minute, though the shadow hid it. Strictly speaking he didn’t have to sleep, though many vampires simulated it, especially the ones who made an effort to blend in. It was said it was better for a vampire’s well being if they went into torpor for a few hours a week at least. Jared shifted about uncomfortably on the rock for a few minutes before getting himself a bed of leaves and moss to lie on. It wasn’t much better, but it was better than the jagged rock. For a moment he lay there, listening intently to Tarla’s movements outside, the whickering of the horse.

Even a vampire was completely defenceless in torpor, she could kill him in one simple movement. He exhaled deeply and lay down, he intertwined his fingers atop his stomach. His body was completely straight, he looked up at the cave ceiling. It was not a natural pose at all, there was none of the wriggling or curling of limbs that humans did in the natural course of sleep. He looked like a dead man in an open casket. He closed his eyes and shut his mind down. It was time to trust her.

Vampires didn’t dream, not in torpor. It was one of the many things they had paid with for their immortality. And so he ‘slept’ for a long, long time. When he awoke the sun was beginning to set, he was not surprised to find Tarla was already up. It must have been difficult for her to sleep in the day, it wasn’t natural, not for her anyway. The sun was burning into the horizon, and his eyes ached at the site of it, though thankfully the rays were kept from most of the cave.

Jared sat up smoothly, there were no aches to stretch out, no yawns, no groggy sleepy feeling. He simply sat up, then stood up, though he was slightly hunched; the cave wasn’t large enough to allow a man to stand tall. There was no sign of the ranger, though her horse was still tethered outside the cave. He felt hungry again…that wasn’t normal, he reasoned it was all the running he did yesterday. Tarla had kept up an unforgiving pace, oh Vampires were fast, strong, incredibly athletic, but the day after they paid for it. They needed energy, like any other…’living’ thing. There was no magic behind his existence, no convenient explanations of ‘mystic ways’, just an incredibly efficient metabolism and some very drastic changes to a human’s physiology.

“Tarla?” He called out, but there was nothing. Her horse whinnied nervously and he frowned and took a step back from the cave mouth, not wishing to panic the beast. He assessed the sun again and took up a large canvas blanket, he wrapped it around his body and made sure the hood shaded his face from the sun and made his way from the cave and down the winding path towards the forest clearing. He would feed again before the left, she wouldn’t have to know about it, he’d find something quickly and be back in a few minutes.

There was still no sign of Tarla, he shuffled into the welcome shade of the forest canopy and discarded the canvas, his eyes pierced the shadow and it was not long before he was bent over the cooling body of another rabbit.

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

She did not think that she would sleep at all, but she did. Two days of hard travel with no rest had taken their toll, and she drifted off into the deep sleep of elven kind. Reverie, it was called by some. It was something that she did not often do. She typically denied her elven heritage. But she did not consider herself human either.

The storms woke her, the rain falling in heavy sheets from dark grey clouds, lightning splitting the sky, illuminating the land outside the cave for an instant before plunging into murky dimness again. Tarla rose, moving to the entrace of the cave, taking her saddleblanket with her. She sat curled up there, beneath Mason's powerful front legs, watching the storm. He horse was comforted by her presence, lowering his head to lip at her soft golden hair.

Tarla smiled, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Knowing it would be over far too soon.

The storms passed on, Tarla watched as the skies slowly brightened. Once or twice, she glanced back into the cave, wondering if Jared had been aware of the storms at all. She knew that vampires were most vulnerable during the day, but she did know much about the specifics of their sleep.

Tarla rose when the rain had lightened, stepping out of the cave. She needed to hunt. She had eaten nothing but waybread for the past two days. It would sustain her, but the energy that it gave her would slowly lessen as the needs of her body grew. Jared would not rise until nightfall, she reasoned, so there was time.

"Guard." She left Mason guarding the entrance of the cave. No one would be permitted entrance so long as Mason lived. The stallion snorted his displeasure, but adopted the required stance.

The cool shadows of the forest swallowed the ranger's form and Tarla was gone. The forests were her home, she was most at ease among the leafy green boughs. Mason watched for her, not moving from his spot, but there was nothing to be seen.

She knew how long Jared would sleep, and so she ranged a little further afield, scouting out the trails ahead of them, finding the land much to her liking. Haril's lands...she surmised. Hakeyre joined her at some point, and the two of them surveyed the lands.

The sun was well past its zenith when she turned back towards the cave, stopping only once to hunt and catch a nice sized rabbit, sharing her kill with her hawk, giving him the choicest bits before cooking the rest.

The sun was still burning low on the horizon when Tarla returned to the cave. Mason was stamping, blowing in distress and Tarla knew the reason. The vampire had left the cave. Glancing up at the still visible sun, she wondered how that was possible, even as she moved to follow the vampire's trail.

Ice blue eyes flashed with anger as she moved fluidly through the dense underbrush. She heard him before she saw him, the wet and urgent sounds of his feeding sending a shiver through her. Stepping onto the trail where he hunched, she felt relief at first, that it was a rabbit he fed on, and disgust.

Her hands, as always near the hilts of her blades, clenched slowly, the urge to draw and to attack near impossible to resist. For a moment, she almost wanted him to attack her, wanted those dark eyes to fall on her and to watch him take a menacing step towards her. Just one...and it would be over.

It was full dark now, the element of surprise was lost to her, and it was Jared who had the upperhand with superior night vision. But Tarla did not care. She would have welcomed the fight.

 

[MaiusImperium]

The blood of hares was nothing compared to that of human vitae, but it would serve the same purpose, and it wasn’t exactly though Jared could afford to be choosy at this moment in time. He suckled from the limp, furry corpse between his hands ravenously, the rabbit was plump and succulent, though the flavour was a little bitter, even as he drank he could feel his strength returning.

Around him the forest rustled with voles and badgers, owls hooted through the silence and crickets chirruped noisily in the distance. Nothing paid any heed to the vampire crouched over the head rabbit, and then…the night air was filled with the sickly sound of Jared taking his fill from the now dead animal.

It was then that he became aware of a figure stood behind him and he cursed silently to himself for allowing his guard to drop. He didn’t need to turn around, his senses piqued, he knew it was Tarla, though he still felt foolish for allowing her to get so close unnoticed. He could feel the anger rolling off her and he could not suppress a shiver of delight as he pulled his fangs from the dead rabbit. She was so alive, he could almost feel the heat radiate off her succulent, tender body. He daren’t turn around for fear of losing control. The pure anger rolling off her was barely bridled, he could sense it as keenly as the sound of her heart drumming inside her chest, and both were intoxicating.

“Do you intend to strike me, Tarla?” His tone was measured now as he turned around somewhat gingerly and slowly began to rise to his feet, he held his hands out at his sides and made no effort to approach her. The rabbit was bunched in his left fist like a furry sack of bones, no blood seeped from the corpse now, Jared had been thirsty.

He lifted his hand to his face and brushed a stray lock of dark hair from his eye and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his bedraggled shirt. The cooling night air was pregnant with tension and he could sense the unasked question, more than that he could see the disgust in her eyes.

“Would you prefer I fed from your steed, or you yourself? This is who I am, Tarla. I feed to survive, the same as the fox and the hawk. All life takes life to survive…” He tried not to think too hard about the fact that strictly speaking he wasn’t ‘life’ but rather un-life. He reached out with the unmoving rabbit in his hand. “Would you have me bury it before we leave? I am sure your pet hawk or a passing fox would not give the rabbit such respect.” Smoothly he crouched and placed the dead rabbit on the mulch that covered the woodland floor, he rose nimbly and smoothly. He hesitated for a moment, the she-elf hadn’t moved, and he could still sense the tension.

“Perhaps we should leave now? Unless you mean to kill me now you have seen the nature of the beast.”

 

[Erin_]

Tarla

Sweet goddess, it took all of her will not to attack him. The sight of him hunched, burying the rabbit carcass, blood still smeared on his lips, sickened her.

It was the mention of her hawk though, that saved his life. Had she not just the day before killed a rabbit to feed both her and Hakyre? Her own hands had been stained with rabbit's blood as she had fed the best bits to the gorgeous hawk. Was she that much different than he?

The myriad of messages that she had received from her goddess played over in the ranger's mind. All of them had counselled peace and patience. Neither of which the ranger had in any great supply.

“Perhaps we should leave now? Unless you mean to kill me now you have seen the nature of the beast.”

Ice blue eyes narrowed at his words. "By rights..." She meant to say that, by rights she should kill him. But she faltered, a realization slowly dawning...probably much slower than it really should have.

"By rights..." She began again, crossing her arms, the gesture less out of a need to keep him at bay than it was to cover her own embarrassment. "You should not have to explain your actions." The half elf's golden curls caught the last rays of the dying sun as she nodded towards the rabbit's hidden corpse. "You have done as I asked in all things, and still, I would kill you in a second." Inhaling, Tarla lifted her eyes to his, meeting his gaze at last.

"We do not control the lives that we are born into Jared. It is not our race that defines us, or our caste. It is our actions that proclaim who we are." It was a belief that she had long held, and one that she had never spoken of to anyone.

"I believe that most strongly, for myself. And yet, I never believed it of you." Two steps towards him, and she stood directly before him, ice blue eyes meeting his own solemnly. "I would ask your forgiveness Jared, though I don't deserve it." This close to him, she could smell the blood of the rabbit, but she did not let it sicken her, only offering her hand to clasp his in friendship.

 

[MaiusImperium]

As Tarla spoke Jared felt the tension begin to dissipate between the two of them. He stood still, he had felt the anger roll off her, barely restrained and he had been almost certain that she was going to strike him with her blade, he had been coiled, ready to leap away…but instead she spoke. She held out her hand, there was a pause. Forgive her? What a strange position to be in, no one had ever asked for his forgiveness. Forgiveness was one of those abilities that vampires didn’t often have to employ, and he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, before looking down at his own hand. Mercifully it was free of blood.

“You have my forgiveness, Tarla.” With a hint of trepidation playing in his cool eyes he slipped his fingers about her hand and clasped it slightly. Her flesh was so…warm, alive, compared to the pallid coolness of his own palm. By Hades he could feel the warmth of her pulse in her hand, and that strange sensation vampires got when in close contact with Elvish kind. Jared suppressed a shiver, he wasn’t about to let his impulses become master of him, though he couldn’t stop the instinctual ache that formed in his jaw about his fangs.

“Well, the sun is all but gone now, perhaps we should be moving.” He slipped his hand from hers and walked past her, making his way back up the gentle slope towards their cave in the foot of the hills. It didn’t take Jared long to gather up his belongings, all he had was his oily canvas to shelter him from rain and sun. The little trinkets and the rusty sword he’d looted he kept about his person. Tarla took a little longer, but they were both ready to leave shortly.

Tarla led Jared into the soft gradients of the hills that lay before the mountains proper. The night was eerie, above them the bright, full moon fought it’s way past pregnant grey storm clouds, etching the frayed edges of the clouds in silver. The pale glow of the obscured moon light the hills in a most disturbing way. For half a mile on either side the soft slopes of the hills surrounded them, picked out in quicksilver light which made them look like the burial mounds of long-deceased kings, and beyond them the unfathomable shadows of mountains climbed into the skies, challenging the heavens for supremacy.

The further into the foothills they went the more they seemed to loom in around them. It was certainly very poetic, though Jared’s keen night vision dispelled some of the gloom and menace of the mountains. He kept a respectful distance from Tarla and Mason, the elf might be coming to terms with him but the beast certainly wasn’t. The animal whickered occasionally, but Tarla seemed to well accustomed to soothing her steed.

“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Perhaps questioning her orienteering abilities was not the wisest course of action, but the question was past his lips before he could stop himself. The wind whipped about him noisily, tugging at his shirt, which clung thinly to his body, and it was an effort to keep his dark fringe from his eyes in the howling gale. Despite the stormy conditions the fat, pendulous clouds above them hadn’t opened…yet.