Mister Black

The bitterness was welcomed as a sharp wind mirrored a blood curdled Drake's shrill. Along the hills topping the caverns it clumsily, sought it's footing while snapped backward. Within the broad side of it's scaled spine, stood a javelin neatly embedded within joint of it's wing. Not far stood a figure, stalking the wounded creature. A while wolf's crown, hiding the true visage of the wearer, while they encircled for a pattern the creature did not telegraph. "I can't let you keep that, so I'll be taking it back now" A gauntlet adorned in mythril, claimed the hide cloak, holding it like a bulwark shield in front of his body. Hiding the dagger also in hand, the pelt like a cushion for the hilt. The deep lavender hues of the Duskwight never left his prey. With a single lunge, seemingly organic as his prey in peak condition, brought him to the base of the javelin. Down came the pelt, over the head of creature, while his dagger relentlessly stabbed at the back of it's neck. No hesitation his aim was for a nerve, the display nothing short of surgery designed to prevent survival. Just as the Drake would lash, did Diveroix grip the Javelin. In a single feat of weight control, throw his weight into a momentary handstand, using bodyweight over strength to drive the Javelin deeper. "Thank you, you were an excellent guide." As it's body collapsed, he'd find a moment to dismount. Side daggers sheathed, impressed with himself that it took one blade, for a legacy long approach for larger prey. A shame there was no one to spout off to, he thought while reclaiming his Javelin from the corpse. The echo of commotion was something that didn't stir him, at least not until he heard a familiar voice's scream. Eyes widening he found himself running, losing his poise and interest in superior positioning. " Vincent! Vincent I'm engaging- stack up in case of a nesting brood. You'll have to contend with more than creatures I fear." "- I Pray you're a better killer than that Rivienne-" Was a thought set off in a mantra at the back of his mind. As of this moment to him it was move, move and kill whatever hinders your advancing. Unfortunate for a charged scout, apparently native to these lands. Because what would seem like a clumsy collision traversing down the hill. Was actually Diveroix, not allowing his fellow Elezen a moment to react. As they both went down to the rocky entrance of the cavern. Javelin clanking off into the darkness upon impact, his only option now was to once again free that dagger. Only this time, he'd stab low. Disregarding concern if he were injured, upon attempt at standing he continued to draw blood. Yet ceased from applying a kill blow. "Sorry lad, I owe them a meal after earlier." Diveroix would whisper, before staggering to a labored shuffle on his feet. He felt no major damage, possibly potential bruising, but it would require a missing limb to garner a sound of pain from the dusk's lips. He'd take that Javelin in hand, not dropping a single gaze behind him. Surely he'd left enough meat, to bide the time of pin pointing her voice. Only moving forward can tell.

Staring skyward throughout their trek, there was a certainty in the highlander. But why did his hands tingle? Was an inquiry he had pushed to the back of Vincent's mind. The alpha wolf among able serpents, his attention sweeping behind him to the wailers taking point of their flank. His attention bore a playful wave, from an archer just paces ahead of their lance wielding colleagues. It encouraged that canine emulating grin of his. That was the spirit he needed to see. They resembled a hunting party etching a main path, searching for points of deviation. The locals didn't need to know, that they truly sought an Elezen's trail in the snow. He mused to the thought, that between Rivienne and Eudalie. Their tracks were as small as doe, potentially smaller in the case of Eudalie. [align=center]" The Cavern route to Whitbrim is just over this hill, tha's our life line- tha is our convergence camp. No winged Drake dare risk, tamperin' with grounds that smell of it's larger counterpart."[/align] Vincent spoke this with a matter of fact tone, from his Adder companions a age old warning. He spoke so certainly, because he thought of swiftest path to run solo. This? Was where they were to take point, and prepare to exact maximum assault if need be. "Be safe" The midlander twin Archers, chimed out playfully. Witnessing their squad leader bend a knee, before he darted into an abnormal pace. It seemed at that time, through his charge through the cavern, that he'd hear a shrill response from a Drake above. Why? were there truly hunters among them? A huntress perhaps. Upon reaching the end of the cavern, he witnessed a pair fluttering their wings, potentially the reinforcements seeking an alternative route. [align=center]"Glad I took point"[/align] On those words, he rid his body of it's immediate worry. Ushering into a blur that seeped of green aether, Adder issued knuckledusters, brandished in a fluid motion. Armor shoulder encased in leather, slammed a screeching of startled Drake into it's own companion. Unleashing a flurry of strikes, arms weren't tense but the collision resound thunderous thuds against their scale hides. Feral grunts proved his strategy quite seasoned, the reptilian duo fleeing in belief that the shrill was now a warning. [align=center]"Tch even 'they' sent out their younglins. Fortunate fer me, that they didn' stick around n' Mmph!!"[/align] Before he knew it, a tail lashed out at him. A cheapshot from a chinchilla on the defense of his would be predators. It was only the creature's skull, previously connecting with Vincent's jawline. This little one would be it's hideaway hero this day. Just as he turned away, humored by his momentary defeat, there was another contender. A...parchment that latched onto his face. Arms flailed a moment, he spouted combatively. " Ye damnable rodents, where ye when the scales were about!?" He stopped and sniffed, was that lavender he smelled? The oil from costa, where the coastal sun, granted enough heat to properly coat the page in scented oils. Only one person, could possess such an item along this route. [align=center]" Eudalie? But...she can't, not now the very frontier is on edge with isolated encounters."[/align] He removed the parchment with a mild pout, he smelled the air before reaching for a pearl. "Diveroix, I could use a point man. Potential civilian, and I must move to acquire". There was a momentary silence. Before he'd get a reply, that for the moment was littered with chuckling. "I heard...she's north of you, keep a steady pace. I have our woodwild in line of sight. Do not move in leisure...you only ran off their curious young. There's unusual activity among her prey. I cannot...feel anything within these creatures.". Vincent did not answer only began to feverishly look about, before shouting for Eudalie in a immediate jog north.

There was a hushed rambling of voices, underneath a makeshift briefing tent, just outside the Ishgardian borders. The bitter cold wind that blew so subtly, was a reminder to all inside. Their presence would be just as welcomed, if they were found not to be hunters, contracted for a elusive prey. Among the huddled circle of races, united by the Adder was larger framed dark skinned Hyur, clearly of Highlander roots. He was not phased at threat of discord within his ranks, neither was his volunteer companion across from him. A Duskwight who equally seemed indifferent to the building confusion. Though the deep lavender gaze of the Elezen, looked to the Hyur as if requesting he settle their colleagues. All he received from him was the slightest nod, and his voice boomed over their anxious debate. [align=center]"Tha's quite enough out of each ye, I have no doubt in any who was chosen. My belief in my superior's judgment spans, to my belief in all of you. We stick to the plan, and leave our caravan ready for extraction. Diveroix...he may be an envoy of the flame, but he too is a younglin of the south shroud. Let us forget banners for now...doing so may do some good."[/align] They all seemed a moment, cross but not a voice raised in protest. As immediately as the silence came, so did productivity. Four members; Two Elezen male wailers, disguised as frontier trackers, two midlander female disguised as food & supply matrons. Together looked like a believable group, maintaining the area for the premier hunters of the camp. Diveroix simply gazed on, watching this unfolding while stirring idle conversation. [align=center]"A dusk is all they see, and they are within reason to question my motives. Vincent I must say that the company flag, your son bares has a flimsy allegiance with Gridania at best."[/align] The silver gaze of Vincent, the voice that spoke up objectively moments prior, never left the dusk. Instead he added a warm wolfish smile, the silver in his hair helped him mirror that pack Alpha demeanor. Raising a hand, and lazily dismissing those words. For the moment he sat cross legs, and arms reflecting on the task at hand, with an eased monotone replied casually against his thought pattern. [align=center]" Here I thought ye learned to stop listening...they are young. Capable but young, they know not a single drop of Intel, that isn't provided by higher ranks and rumors amongst peers."[/align] Leaving Vincent many reasons to chuckle, when the Duskwight scoffed at "Capable". The only words uttered by Diveroix. " I'll be departing soon, get a lay of the land." Was he truly concerned for someone? A thought cycling through Vincent's mind watching his fellow tracker, instinctively layer in white wolf hide. While the Highlander stood stretching lazily, already adorned in a black plated harness. Arm swipes upward for the face guard, preparing to step in the role of the blood thirsty drake hunter. He believed the task wasn't too daunting, but the discretion was a handicap he refused to overlook. Just the thought of Eudalie smiling up at him at Whitebrim, and of Rivienne's driven expression, was a mental image that mirrored Diveroix who already visualized a course. Vincent took a step in his way, placing a palm on the Dusk's shoulder. [align=center]"Stick to the plan, and ye won't fret her safety as much. She's crossed their paths this long, you'll cross paths on the streets of cities for ages to come."[/align] The highlander watched him force by, not a word uttered. Leaving Vincent to humorously nodded dryly, pacing back to supply. [align=center]" Apparently you'll make sure of that."[/align]