Imagine that after joining the League, you see vermin everywhere, even writhing within your own blood. The burden of seeing corruption and filth everywhere becomes too much, and so you go to Valtr for advice. Imagine that Valtr understands how overwhelming it is even though he hasn't seen vermin in years, and so he sits down with you to talk it out and comfort you, holding you in his arms.
Awwwwww, poor hunter bby! X(
Of all the duties he hadperformed as the League Master, cradling one of his confederates, as theysobbed profusely, had never crossed his path as one. Until now, that is.
The last hunter who hadpassed through had joined the League, almost without question, and withoutstaying long enough to heed his warning about what disgusting creatures lurk inthe creatures they would hunt and kill. Valtyr now sat with this very youngsoul, holding them as they cried into his shoulder.
He would always remember howthis hunter burst back into the windmill, after only a few hours, with a lookof utter horror and anger on their face. They had charged him, grabbed him bythe collar, and pushed him against the wall. Nothing came from their quiveringlips at that moment, and only did in a strained whisper. “What are they?” Rightaway, Valtyr knew what distressed the young hunter, and he sighed. The hunter hadknelt down, taking the man down with them, and streaks of tears began downtheir (s/c) cheeks, now resulting in their current position.
The hunter quietedsomewhat, and looked up at their master. “They’re everywhere, Master Valtyr.”They stated. “How…how can I kill them when the filth can so easily possess me?”Their eyes wanted answers, and he knew it, but could only offer what he toldthem before. He touched their cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “Simplykeep to ridding the streets of these wretched creatures, my dear confederate.”The old hunter observed the eyes of this young, spry hunter, and went back to atime when he could still see what terrible filth dwelled in the hearts of thosetaken over by the beast.
The hunter swelled back up and tears pricked at thecorners of their (e/c) eyes. They curled up and settled back into his embrace,closing their eyes once comfortable enough. “I will try…master.”
Valtyr could’vescowled at that title by now. How many had gone mad under his leadership?Yamamura, Old Henryk, and simply thinking about how the youngest of the Madaras’had nearly reverted back to his beastly forest life style brought threateningtears to his remaining eye. This one, he thought, I refuse to lose this hunter.His gloved hand now gripped the hunter’s coat tighter, as if they would fadeinto oblivion if he didn’t, and he hugged them closer. “Rest easy, Confederate.”He said, feeling their slow, steady breathing. “I have you…always.”