so what? 'least i have the strength to fight

and who cares about the thing i did that night? so what? maybe luna had it right... and who cares if i'm coming back to life?

[refugejerah]

who?: @zagreusx where?: hidden ones alcove (eterna) when?: troupe 3

Since his descent below ground to avoid the worst of the chaos, the voices have grown more impatient while his resolve grew stronger. "Come to me, come to me now before you become someone else's weapon…" one voice would say. "Return to the surface and feast amidst the turmoil…" the other would say. But Jerah was accustomed to his mind being a playground and the longer he suffered his intense hunger in the dark the stronger his resolve became. Ache and darkness was all he knew for days on end until the scent of another entering the alcove hit his senses. There was only one way forward, and the answer was here though it fell from his lips like pained plea: "Pack…" It was all Jerah needed and all he spoke as the other drew closer and the shadows that concealed him dissipated. His disappointment at this one not being Alrik was clear, but he'd been keeping his ravenous hunger at bay for a while now. Jerah was lucid enough to determine that a stranger being here was to benefit the Old Woman and not his appetite. "No one, for so long, then new one … the very first," he says, not moving from his corner but clutching his hand over the center of his chest. "Pack," he reiterates, learning still how to lead with his words. "What new one hunts?" he questions, holding out his hand palm up.

[refugejerah]

[shewolfaurea]

"Did you escape whatever happened to them?" Her tone is gentler, expression softened despite her firm grasp on her bow. She would say she was sorry, but she was no stranger to grief. She knew her apologies for the death of his family was just a nicety, even if it was meant sincerely. Slowly, she shifts her grip to be able to hold her arrow between the fingers of the hand on her bow so she could reach for the small bag attached to her quiver. Carefully, she knelt to set the bag on the ground and stepped back a couple of feet to give him room. "That's a rabbit I caught less than an hour ago, it should still be fresh." Had his pack been feeding him? Or had he been hunting down people within the forest this entire time? She's more curious than afraid, wants to help the locals no doubt getting picked off and the dhampir who seems....His mannerisms are lupine in nature.

[refugejerah]

Escape… There was no escaping Death. Jerah learned that while he was still a pup. It was a lesson Mother taught him as he grew to be one with the forest in Iskaldrik. Life had cycles, just like the moon, but it was still difficult to lose her and his brothers one by one. Jerah didn't understand why it happened, or how long it had been since it happened. His grief manifested itself as hunger, and for decades, that's all he was. All the training in the world couldn't quell it now, his being already belonged to someone who'd never let that happen. Even now, the scent of a rabbit that would have once sustained him repulsed him now. Jerah felt a tight coiling around his gut as he sniffed it, preventing him from enjoying the scent of prey blood. "That is bad…" the other voice in his head reminded him. It had been too long since Jerah had eaten forest critters. She would not let him revert back, not after he had given Her so many souls already just from being feral. "Not prey. Hunt, kill, feed. Wilderness way." Still, it was an offering, one that Jerah felt was enough to pull his shadow back into himself, a sign he was no longer as much on the defensive. "Not pup. Hunt prey, eat prey." Jerah didn't have a pack, so he couldn't eat food offered by another even if it did happen to smell good.

[casimirnoctis]

Prey sins, prey dies - Casimir sighed, nodding along, "I see - this was your target." He had to wonder what place would seemingly employ this one, but he'd met far more cryptic beings who were powerful enough and relied little on words. He was certain this one could be lethal if not careful, much like what had transpired for the dead witch in his arms; the dhampir tearing the flesh from their neck. It was more violent than any exchange of blood he'd seen nor permitted, savagery replicated on the other's expression and his snarling, curled lip. "Whatever you think nor say you are, there are dozens just like this one to tell you otherwise." Casimir would rather not exhaust a petulant exchange of correcting something as trivial as what this other believed himself to be. That was their business, after all, and though Casimir had involved himself thus far, he'd try to see it through that he himself was relatively unscathed by the end of this. "You don't wish to see the inside of that Tower." He thought of his uncle - sorrows, sorrows, prayers - but it was a fate anyone should hope to avoid and he had to figure, in some respect, that this one was a perfect candidate for similar Tower studies.

[refugejerah]

The cadence of the other's speech sounded strange in Jerah's ears. He understood the words but couldn't grasp the context well enough, leaving him feeling rather perplexed. He made a frustrated noise, annoyed at how integral language was in this place he found himself in. There was so much he wanted to say and maybe ask, but instead, all Jerah said to respond was, "Hungry…" What other way was there for a wolf than to hunt when opportunity struck and try to avoid trouble in the meantime? His taste for humans had only developed fairly recently in his life, and now he had a taste for it. Even if he wanted to stop, the voices in his head would never allow such a thing. "Magic…" he said, the gnarled word hissed out between clenched teeth. Jerha had never used the term before, but he was familiar with the concept in a broad sense. The Old Woman never mentioned a Tower, but based on the effort it took to take down this prey, he would at least take the warning seriously. "Forest home. Forest safe. City big, step carefully…" Jerah would have to be careful, because he knew instinctively this was the largest population center in the area. Without prey, he would starve. For now, he couldn't justify leaving the area even as an unfamiliar voice continuously beckoned him north.

[alrikhart]

The more he looked the stranger it got, but it'd inspire a good story anyway - one that Alrik would probably never tell beyond these walls. "Looking for friends and others like me." The Old Woman truly didn't discriminate, but if this hunter used the city for his feasting ground then it was only a matter of time before he turned into a liability and ended up with his name on a coin. "Hidden Ones." There was a beat, "What do you do with the people you've fed on. They have taverns for that here." Bit gross as far as Alrik was concerned but people did what they had to to survive. Not that vampires were people, but he might have been, once. He took a step toward the poor, feral creature and extended a strong, meaty hand toward him. "I could be your pack."

[refugejerah]

Recognition and clarity flashed across Jerah's eyes for the briefest moment. The coins were supposed to be a secret between him and the raven who cawed but once for him. The Old Woman told him to prepare to walk her path alone, and Jerah accepted that. But here was someone who was following the same instinct as he had been to this place. Nourishment of a different kind… "Hunt sin, eat prey, forest eat bones," Jerah says with his own confused look. He can pluck the word 'tavern' from his mind but cannot connect the concept to his perception of sustenance. Wolves hunted for their meals, that's the way Mother taught him. But she also taught him how to provide for a pack. It had been more years than Jerah could count since he had one, which might've been why he reared up to reach for Alrik's hand, a gesture he understood to be a strange form of human greeting. But he hesitated and drew it back as the quieter voice cut through to express Her thoughts on the offer: "He walks with Death. That is good…" The only cold Jerah knew was the chill of Her presence when She looked toward his actions, but it was comforting in a way. Alrik didn't seem to hear nor notice a drop in temperature, so he thrusted it forward into Alrik's to squeeze. He supposed even a human could be a part of a wolf's pack if they wanted. "Pack. Same, pack…" Jerah muttered, putting his hand to his face to memorize Alrik's scent, clutching it with his other as if it were somehow now precious. He smelled of the city, which meant he would need to lead Alrik to the forest so he could start smelling like that instead. "Pack hunt. Hungry…"

[shewolfaurea]

He is not what she expected, more feral than she'd thought he'd be and yet in a completely different way. Not like a vampire, but like a wolf, there's a canine quality to his movements and yet so much grace. "And dagger, few knives. Full set of claws and teeth if I need them, too." She points out, brows raising as her bow remains pointed at the ground. Though she'd rather it not come to all of that. Her purpose for being out there was not to harm him in the slightest. Nose crinkling, there's the faintest smell of wolf to the air, stale, but aside from that there's the stench of decay from whatever must have been fed on and....Well the dhampir himself didn't smell the best either, actually. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air and her clawed fingers tightened around her bow a bit but she did not raise it. "What happened to your pack?" Her tone is curious but it's soft, not unlike she's speaking to a child. If he wasn't too far gone there was hope to rehabilitate him, maybe get him integrated with the Feronia to an extent if it would get him a bit under control.

[refugejerah]

"She bears weapons and attempts to disarm you with her words. She cannot hurt you, you are stronger. Rip her throat out and end thisssss…"   Again, Jerah ignores the voice, but he still emits a rumbling growl from deep within his chest, at least until his pack is mentioned. The Old Woman gave Jerah the most basic education to function as her Hidden One within society without forgetting who he was. Still, the reason she chose him in the first place was to pull him out of his grief to hopefully direct his bottomless bloodlust towards the protection of the pattern. Unfortunately, Jerah lacked enough of a grasp on the language to understand or vocalize this. Instead, his response came from someplace deep within his psyche, carrying an assuredness and weight that he wasn't capable of expressing through words: "Death." For a moment, a human lucidity reached Jerah's eyes as he invoked Her name, but it vanished behind his survival instinct. "Hungry, always hungry … still hungry," he impresses upon her, annoyed that the voice delighted in his mind, but snarling as his shadow materialized beside him as a perfect echo of the wolf he saw himself as.

[alrikhart]

Alrik studied the figure before him, a quiet tension in the air. The Iskaran didn’t say much, but he was quick to pick up on the unfamiliar, unsure tone in Jerah’s voice. He understood what it was like to struggle with identity, to search for the right words. It wasn’t much different than when home was taken from him, when the darkness of the mines shrouded his thoughts and he lost touch with the real and the unreal. “Alrik,” he replied, his voice steady but not unkind.

Alrik leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. “You’ve been through something, haven’t you?” he added, more to himself than Jerah, as if sensing there was more beneath the surface.

[refugejerah]

The words and speech in his head were relatively new tools the Old Woman provided so he could get by without her and not revert to the feral grief that consumed him for decades. He hadn't the grasp of the language nor the ability to introspect to communicate this though, plus "something" was a broad word for him. Did this Alrik mean what he endured when he slept or what happened in the old woods he had to abandon? Unsure, Jerah offered a grunt and a nod in confirmation.

"Hunt alone, no pack. Always hungry," he added to the nod, the best he could describe his circumstances for he lacked the capacity to describe his desolation further. "Cities…" to this, Jerah merely spits out his tongue in disgust. He wasn't a fan, but this place made a good hunting ground during the night. He'd wrongfully assumed this alcove would provide him with a meal. "Alrik not prey. Why here?" he questions, looking longingly toward the surface. How did he find this place?

[raventeresi]

Raven was unaware of the fact that the beast she witnessed ravaging the bloody body in the alleyway was another hidden one, they had both answered the call that the Women in the Mountain had put out by the deliverance of iron coins with a fated name engraved on it.

Both had a proficiency and taste for blood and yet the sights and noises that she was hearing from the feast on decaying flesh horrified her, they were determined to consume them bones and all and she was bearing witness to the gruesome meal. Hands raised in surrender and her lips turned down in a frown, footsteps taken backwards and she's a moment from peeling away from the scene, hoping that she'd never make his acquaintance again as she wouldn't forget that blood soaked chin anytime soon. "Eat it, bones and all." encouraging words if it meant that she got away, not a lie to be told, she'd save her own skin over another's any day.

[refugejerah]

Jerah was exactly what he saw himself as: a wolf. An animal. He bound himself to the code and knowledge the Old Woman imparted to him out of necessity because the alternative would be reverting back to the wild creature he was. This display was not extreme, this was simply Jerah's meal.   He could eat until only tattered clothes and bones remained, as he always did. Jerah knew better than to leave meat to rot, especially now that he had to rely on this city for nourishment. It was instinct, second nature, which was why he was able to give up his sense of sight temporarily and still continue to eat. A few feet away in the path this woman was walking backward, his shadow appeared, an echo of himself. He could watch her back while he filled his gullet. Jerah knew he could always use it to escape if need be, but he also didn't know if she was attempting to leave to bring more people with weapons. His shadow self was his defense, the reason he did not hesitate to put his focus on eating. While it may have looked like he was engrossed, Jerah's shadowself could see and hear her footsteps on his behalf.

[casimirnoctis]

"There are.... places here if you can't control yourself. In exchange for your coin, you could feast with little trouble." Casimir frowned, as blood and flesh continued to further spatter to the ground throughout any logical reasoning. It was difficult for Casimir to simply stand there, blood filling his senses and the other continued to feast with little care, it made his throat ache and his eyes burn. "Eterna is not fond of us picking off people in the streets," not that Casimir ever had to, but he'd witnessed a scene of such unfolding enough times to know the other posed a danger to himself if the witches of the Tower were to get their hands on him. "Witches don't favor us," maybe that was simple enough for the other to grasp, but with the way Casimir held himself it likely still resided on a very cryptic level.

[refugejerah]

Coin? Trouble? What was this person talking about? Wolves ate what they caught and human coin had nothing to do with it. Jerah earned his prey through the hunt, and if any vulture tried to take it from him he'd lash out. He knew these cities would have laws, but his current prey was a sinner. The only issue he could determine from his actions was his haste in eating here instead of flying back to his den in the forest to feed in peace. Still, he could hear the other's words over the sounds of his munching, which is why, in a flurry of limb movements, Jerah sped right into the stranger's face, growled for a moment, then scented him properly. His nose curled, a sign that he was thoroughly confused. "Not pack, no … us," he responded after confirming what his eyes were already telling him. This was no wolf, so what did he know about anything? Jerah really hated having to rely on words. "Prey sins, prey dies. City, forest, territory, hunt, eat, follow rules. Always follow rules..." Perhaps it was the stranger who needed to learn, not the other way around.

[perths]

APO NATTAWIN DIOR | GQ UNCUT

[casimirnoctis]

Cloaked by the shadows, literally and magically, Casimir often did not meddle in business that did not actively concern him. Still, the dhampir smelled blood, it resonated with that perpetual ache in his gums, the parched scratch on the back of his throat, and though everything in him willed him to turn and walk on, his own residency not far from here, the Shade turned down the alley anyhow. The scent of blood had greeted him first, long before he ever saw it in the flesh, and as he pulled himself into view, already certain the other could sense him, a beastial hiss from the other greeted him next. "I don't want your meal, friend," it was a half-truth considering any dhampir was a prisoner to the need for blood, but Casimir wasn't truly interested in the scraps of another; much less the problem these particular scraps presented.

Casimir noted the robes and the ring on the victim, all indicative of a witch of the Tower, which meant there wasn't much time before this spun completely out of control. It'd be wiser for Casimir to turn away and leave them to their fate, but still he tried to reason with the bloodsoaked creature who seemed more animal than human. Ones like this should have remained in Veilcrest, it was these ones that made many in the common life unsure of most children of the night, fearful of them. "What you've picked off is off limits for the most part, there's lots of silent rules even if you don't seem keen to follow them." Was he really reasoning with someone who was on their hands and knees acting more beast than civilized? Yes, yes, he really was.

[refugejerah]

It was hard to wait for a coin. Jerah couldn't do it. He needed to hunt, he needed to trust his instincts. His hunger was all consuming which was why he always defaulted to the Old Woman's teachings. Only sin tasted good to him now, so he found the other's words confusing, just as confusing as the fact that he stopped to talk to him at all. Jerah didn't let his guard down, but he did let his bloodstained lips fall over his teeth. He raises his head to properly scent the other. He smells strange, completely unappetizing but not because he lacked the scent of sin. Jerah had never encountered such a scent before, but he didn't have time to ponder. He needed to finish his meal then return to the woods. He only had nighttime to feed.   "Follow rules. Eat prey." Did he learn from the Old Woman too? Then he should be able to smell the sin on what remained of the carcass Jerah tore into. He was careful and always relied on his instincts before choosing his prey. Even without an iron coin, by Jerah's determination the man with the magic was guilty. He deserved death, so Jerah delivered, getting his first meal in days as a result. What was the issue? "Follow rules," he reiterates before spinning to continue tearing chunks out of his prey. He swallowed it all down, blood, meat, and all as he'd always done. Jerah didn't know what he'd done to qualify as a "friend" to this man, but if that meant that he'd be allowed to eat without competition then Jerah wouldn't care. His gnawing hunger drove him to continue feasting, ignorant to the social workings of this city.

[raventeresi]

There wasn't much that scared Raven, she had nothing so she had nothing to lose, had prided herself on being the knife in the dark and even then her pride could be sacrificed if it meant another day on this wretched earth. The only love she carried in her pitch black heart was for her crow and he could outfly any predator.

She had always existed within the shadows, had lived on the fringes of society, had slept on the side of highways where solemn travelled as there were dangers of robbery for those who dared to venture the roads. No part of her grimy existence was something to brag about as she knew a dumpster existed within the alley that was on the backside of a restaurant and they tended to dispose of produce before it had reached it's prime but because it was declared ugly. It was how she came across the creature that fed on another, blood dripping down it's chin and knuckles pressed against the gravel as it hunkered into an animalistic devouring. She wasn't scared of much but there was a flutter of nerves as the bloodthirsty monster lifted it's eyes towards her and pin her as if she was a threat to his mealtime. She had enough time in the wilds to know that was never good. "Easy there.. boy. Human flesh is all yours."

[refugejerah]

Trust wasn't even a concept to Jerah, it was just a word. One of many the Old Woman taught him. Even when he had a pack, it wasn't trust that bound them together. They shared blood, a need to survive, and a connection to the wild. Trust seemed dumb so Jerah had none. He growled and paced back and forth, showing his teeth to demonstrate he would fight for his dinner.

"Hungry. Eat." Jerah's voice was a mix between a growl and a hiss, further muddled by the blood spilling over his bottom lip. He had no reason to trust her words, but he turned his back on her to resume his meal anyway. A point could only be made to a certain extent before he was just wasting energy. She didn't have the scent of suitable prey, nor did her uneven heartbeat possess the tempo of a threat. If she fought for his meal then Jerah would respond in kind, but finishing quickly was his priority for now. He continued to tear into flesh, swallowing down blood and viscera as quickly as he could chew until the bones were practically picked clean. But between every few bites he would raise his head, sniff in her direction, and growl to reiterate that this prey was his. Jerah wasn't used to feeding around others anymore.

[shewolfaurea]

The smell of blood hits her nose and Aurea's steps become lighter, her fingers reaching back to fluidly retrieve an arrow from her quiver. Following her nose, the hair on the back of her neck stands up and lupine eyes narrow. There's a slight clearing, it's not uncommon for people to camp and yet upon closer inspection there's scraps of canvas, a singular leather boot, and the smell of decay clings to the air alongside the metallic coppery tang of blood. "Is anyone here?" Arrow notched in her bow, she can't hear any heartbeats indicating life and something in her gut sinks. If she'd stumbled upon some camp that'd been destroyed by something or worse it was disheartening, but it would mean she could investigate herself at least.

[refugejerah]

Predator. Jerah can see through his shadow how she stalks and aims her weapon. She reminds him of all those people who invaded his territory back in the old woods. He never did figure out what they all came looking for since he ate them all, but that was before. This woman's meat would taste foul, so what was he to do? She needed to leave. Jerah's shadow darts across the treetops and surrounding brush, rustling with intention as it creates noise from every direction. Humans, unlike prey animals, became unsettled by the mystery and typically tried to pinpoint the source instead of fleeing. That was Jerah's advantage because after his shadow shook a bush, it immediately fled to one in the opposite direction, silently stepping out. He went to it and remerged his senses as it did, leaving him in full view as he kept low to the ground and growled to make his location known. Jerah maintained distance, snarling to make it known she had wandered into his territory. Bow and arrow… Best to wait until she no longer had one between her fingers.

[alrikhart]

"...Right." Alrik commented, he supposed words were hard for some people. He didn't recognize him but it took all kinds, apparently. The fate of the pattern would come down- well. Alrik still thought it was strange that they'd been called here to this place, to be outfitted or organized, it was difficult for Alrik to say. Skittering down from a corner in the wall, there was a quiet gratitude from the Iskaran as he chose to believe that his presence wasn't nearly as unsettling as whoever this was. "You got a name?"

[refugejerah]

There wasn't any food here, so why was he drawn to this place? What was this place? He didn't much appreciate being underground, but he opened his mouth to scent the air while focusing his ears. The only other sound besides the distant bustle of Eterna above was a heartbeat. His heartbeat. They were alone. "Got name," he confirms, at first missing some context of the question. Jerah had a name now, but he'd not been asked it since he claimed it. It was still a chore to remember this human likely wouldn't think of a scent as a proper introduction. "J-Jerah," he rasps, shaky and unsure as if he hadn't said it out loud before. "Got name?"

[shewolfaurea]

Person: @refugejerah Location: Foresty Part of the Queensland It had been some kind of rumor, some creature craving blood once lived with a pack of wolves. It was something to look into and she hadn't been able to yet, not with everything going on, and yet, venturing towards Eterna to see what the hell all of the commotion was about, she'd figured now was a good a time as any to investigate further. Aurea doesn't have a description, but she's following a trail of blood, her fingers itching for the bow at her back just in case as she moves through the forest.

[refugejerah]

A raven came, a coin was dropped, and Jerah's stomach began to rumble as he howled to the moon in thanks. The voice in his head, which he assumed belonged to Mother, urged him forward to find his meal. He traveled by way of shadow, letting his adopt his senses to follow the raven until it began circling overhead. While Jerah remained on the outskirts out of the fray, his shadow was quick to grapple his prey for him and bring them into Jerah's waiting embrace. Under the veil of darkness, he could fly back to his forest den while feasting, unconcerned about the trail he left given his ravenous state of hunger. Of course, the idea that someone would track him had never crossed his mind, so he went on high alert the moment his senses picked up movement too close to his den.   Bones littered the area, the pieces of cloth his prey wore were scattered about, and the dugout den beneath a bush only had one way in or out. However, while his body remained pressed down to the deepest depth of it, his shadow watched for him, carefully sticking to the tree tops as both a means of observing the woman who ventured too close and provide an expedient retreat if need be. The wrong sin clung to her scent, so she couldn't be his next meal.

[nattawins]

APO NATTAWIN Man Suang (2022), dir. Nat Chartchai Ketnust

[refugejerah]

who?: open to all || capped at 3 replies where?: the streets of eterna when?: some time in the general sense

Jerah saw him do it from the shadows of Eterna's rooftops. It was magic, the Old Woman taught him how to recognize the signs of it even if he couldn't perceive the weaves. The man hurt another man, took something from him, then left. Both of them smelled of sin, but his instincts had him ignore the prey who was hurt on the ground. He wanted to hunt the one still walking.

He was careful, but the city was not his territory. Jerah's prey fought back when he attempted to drag him into the shadows and escaped his hold. There wasn't much space in the alley they both rolled into, but Jerah's mobility trumped whatever strange powers his prey could wield. He fought like a beast so the confrontation ended in less than a minute, but it was still a hard fight. Too hungry to move his prey somewhere more secure once he landed a fatal blow, Jerah crouched in the dark as he feasted hastily. He didn't bother removing the robes or the ring on his finger, which got in the way, but the moment he sensed another nearby, he spun to face them. This prey belonged to him, and they couldn't have it. Jerah communicated this by baring his bloody fangs and snarling. On his hands and feet with his back arched in case he needed to lunge, Jerah snapped his teeth to signal this was his current feeding ground. He was not letting some vulture steal his food.