One. Two. Three.
Three soon to be dead wolves. Katherine looked down the mythril sights of her carbine. The barrel did not shine against the light for it, like the red hunter holding it, was powdered by the falling Coerthan snow, prone on the white sheets of the land. The day was drawing to a close and she'd have to find her way to warm herself in the night soon. Much and more are said to prowl the highlands and she was not keen to meet them shivering and unfocused.
And it showed.
A layer of snow shaken off her barrel as she struggled to keep the aim steady at the largest wolf in this small pack of hunters turned hunted.Â
Her ears stung. Her body shaking underneath the tunic she had worn. Confident then that the woolen undershirt was enough to retain heat except that she had failed to mend it from a previous errand she had run. Rips lined the sleeves and the rest of the undershirt itself was near threadbare. However, she was not one to return empty handed.
The motto of consortium she worked for rang in her head though the voice that echoed it was clearly different. Male. A very familiar voice and a very familiar tone.
If you want it, we can get it.
A part of her life she had taken heart. Even as the vessel changed that belief in that phrase did not. Perhaps it had always been a challenge to her. Not a guarantee but a challenge to get whatever it is regardless of what circumstances surround it. In this case it was a wolf skin. Not just any skin but one that would make for a quality output.
Katherine steeled herself. Willed the shaking to disappear for only a moment. Ordered her body to be still. And pulled the trigger.
A crack akin to thunder burst and blanketed her small part of the highlands. The wolf in the lead toppled as his companions sought out whatever felled their leader. Noses pointed at the Red Hunter's direction. She had willingly obliged the beasts and rose from her spot as the the duo padded toward her breaking off and circling her.Â
Snarls and growls were thrown at her as they tightened the circle. For her part she had pulled a smaller hatchet bound to her waist and held her carbine by the barrel, flicking her wrist after pressing a button on the bottom of the barrel nearer the trigger guard, a long spike protruded from her gun's handle effectively giving her a pick to work with.Â
The wolves moved first, pouncing in unison and the Red Hunter responded in kind, ducking low and poised to let the pick meet the head of one and the hatchet meet the neck of the other. One hit its mark the other missed. A blossom of red forming on the grey sleeves as her arm was swiped by the beast causing her to drop the hatchet. She had not been careful with the pick neither, it had lodged itself to deep into the skull to be prized out immediately though the force of the pounce did move her that only her arm, not her chest or another part of her was swiped by the other wolf.Â
The beast landed on all fours and turned to face the huntress and lunged at her again. Looking sample her with its maw opened wide. She dove for her hatchet and dove at her. Her fingers locked around the shaft, it's teeth sank into her leg. The leather lining useless against the fangs. She howled and brought the hatchet down onto the wolf's head as it started to try and pry her leg from the rest of her. The blade bit into the animal's skull.
One. Two. Three.
A fire cackled and illuminated the night. The Red Hunter with her prize and bonus sat near it. She would only hope that most of the wood she had hacked were serviceable to the fire. She started at the wood, burning, feeding a dancing flame.
There's a darkness in you. It feeds off your fear, your pain, your hate. Much like the beast in you.
Her attention shifted to her arm and her leg. The shirtsleeve rolled up to the elbow the pant leg rolled up to her knee. The punctures of were clear against the fire's light. The blood around the holes long dried. She flexed her arm and was greeted with a numbing wave of pain. And yet she found that she reveled in it almost grinning before another thought struck her like a slap across her face.
I think you fall in love expecting to be rejected. You fall in love because you know you will be hurt.
The grin disappeared from her face. She fixed a sour gaze on her wound and rummaged through her pack pulling out a bottle with a pink liquid. She had uncorked the bottle and drank from it. The pain itself numbed and slowly disappeared. Her wounds no longer flaring with pain when she flexed her arm. She poured the remainder over it and then over her leg. Shaking off the last few drops and then dropping the empty flask into her pack and unrolling the sleeve and leg, leaning back against the snow. An almost defeated crossed her face gazing up at the beautiful Coerthan night.
"When the hell did I become addicted to pain? When did I become a masochist? More importantly..why?"
Because you need it, Kath. You need it. I need it. Without it nothing fuels...us.Â
It was only ever waking up, Kurt.
Three soon to be dead wolves. Katherine looked down the mythril sights of her carbine. The barrel did not shine against the light for it, like the red hunter holding it, was powdered by the falling Coerthan snow, prone on the white sheets of the land. The day was drawing to a close and she'd have to find her way to warm herself in the night soon. Much and more are said to prowl the highlands and she was not keen to meet them shivering and unfocused.
And it showed.
A layer of snow shaken off her barrel as she struggled to keep the aim steady at the largest wolf in this small pack of hunters turned hunted.Â
Her ears stung. Her body shaking underneath the tunic she had worn. Confident then that the woolen undershirt was enough to retain heat except that she had failed to mend it from a previous errand she had run. Rips lined the sleeves and the rest of the undershirt itself was near threadbare. However, she was not one to return empty handed.
The motto of consortium she worked for rang in her head though the voice that echoed it was clearly different. Male. A very familiar voice and a very familiar tone.
If you want it, we can get it.
A part of her life she had taken heart. Even as the vessel changed that belief in that phrase did not. Perhaps it had always been a challenge to her. Not a guarantee but a challenge to get whatever it is regardless of what circumstances surround it. In this case it was a wolf skin. Not just any skin but one that would make for a quality output.
Katherine steeled herself. Willed the shaking to disappear for only a moment. Ordered her body to be still. And pulled the trigger.
A crack akin to thunder burst and blanketed her small part of the highlands. The wolf in the lead toppled as his companions sought out whatever felled their leader. Noses pointed at the Red Hunter's direction. She had willingly obliged the beasts and rose from her spot as the the duo padded toward her breaking off and circling her.Â
Snarls and growls were thrown at her as they tightened the circle. For her part she had pulled a smaller hatchet bound to her waist and held her carbine by the barrel, flicking her wrist after pressing a button on the bottom of the barrel nearer the trigger guard, a long spike protruded from her gun's handle effectively giving her a pick to work with.Â
The wolves moved first, pouncing in unison and the Red Hunter responded in kind, ducking low and poised to let the pick meet the head of one and the hatchet meet the neck of the other. One hit its mark the other missed. A blossom of red forming on the grey sleeves as her arm was swiped by the beast causing her to drop the hatchet. She had not been careful with the pick neither, it had lodged itself to deep into the skull to be prized out immediately though the force of the pounce did move her that only her arm, not her chest or another part of her was swiped by the other wolf.Â
The beast landed on all fours and turned to face the huntress and lunged at her again. Looking sample her with its maw opened wide. She dove for her hatchet and dove at her. Her fingers locked around the shaft, it's teeth sank into her leg. The leather lining useless against the fangs. She howled and brought the hatchet down onto the wolf's head as it started to try and pry her leg from the rest of her. The blade bit into the animal's skull.
One. Two. Three.
A fire cackled and illuminated the night. The Red Hunter with her prize and bonus sat near it. She would only hope that most of the wood she had hacked were serviceable to the fire. She started at the wood, burning, feeding a dancing flame.
There's a darkness in you. It feeds off your fear, your pain, your hate. Much like the beast in you.
Her attention shifted to her arm and her leg. The shirtsleeve rolled up to the elbow the pant leg rolled up to her knee. The punctures of were clear against the fire's light. The blood around the holes long dried. She flexed her arm and was greeted with a numbing wave of pain. And yet she found that she reveled in it almost grinning before another thought struck her like a slap across her face.
I think you fall in love expecting to be rejected. You fall in love because you know you will be hurt.
The grin disappeared from her face. She fixed a sour gaze on her wound and rummaged through her pack pulling out a bottle with a pink liquid. She had uncorked the bottle and drank from it. The pain itself numbed and slowly disappeared. Her wounds no longer flaring with pain when she flexed her arm. She poured the remainder over it and then over her leg. Shaking off the last few drops and then dropping the empty flask into her pack and unrolling the sleeve and leg, leaning back against the snow. An almost defeated crossed her face gazing up at the beautiful Coerthan night.
"When the hell did I become addicted to pain? When did I become a masochist? More importantly..why?"
Because you need it, Kath. You need it. I need it. Without it nothing fuels...us.Â
It was only ever waking up, Kurt.
![[Image: kUDtE6X.png]](http://i.imgur.com/kUDtE6X.png)
![[Image: zyWzbVR.png]](http://i.imgur.com/zyWzbVR.png)
