⇒ Lyric is listening, watching, the space before them. She appears like a vision, beautiful and crested in starlight, her hair as fair as the moon itself. Her voice is soft and compels them to speak the truth, but Lyric will not be swayed by falsehoods. They have not come this far to fall to the tricks of a maiden of any kind.
“And yet you are still here.”
⇒ They do not answer, deliberately. Beneath the thick fabric of their cloak their hand rests on a sharpened knife, curved like an eagle’s talon for rending flesh from bone. They stand slowly, wary–Her story might be worth pitying if Lyric had ever believed it, but no person would calmly wander these woods. Not unless they had power greater than things that sleep in shadows.
“This cloak is not beautiful;
for once, it was white and embroidered by my mother’s hands
and now it is RED, like the blood in me.”
⇒ Lyric plants their feet firmly on the ground, stares up at the woman with their sharp eyes, the shade harsh orange as if made from amber facets. They breath out slow. Is her smile too sharp, or just enough?
“People must pass through these woods again and again–
they must escape the wolf every time.
So which are you? The wolf of the savior?”
❝ 𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑. ❞ The wolf responds without hesitation, carefully measuring each of their movements, trying to decide -- what will get them to falter? Which form will gain their trust, which one will allow her to strike? She knows the warnings the villagers pass along, knows only those too idiotic, too confident would choose not to heed them. But the danger is what makes the hunt so much more FUN. Who will be the one that tries to fight back?
❝ I only wish to see the beast dead. ❞ She takes a small step forward. ❝ So tell me, ❞ all at once her voice is sharp, demanding, ❝ are you here to kill it? If not, then you waste both my time and yours, and you should LEAVE. Preferably before it finds you. ❞ Another step forward, bright blue eyes filled with fire, lips twisting into a SNARL.
( The wolf is many things ; overly patient is not one of them. )
❝ No one comes into these woods without a purpose, not anymore. The wolf has ensured it. The beast is -- bloodthirsty. Enjoys the hunt and relishes in the kill ; you cannot face it on your own. ❞ From her belt she pulls a knife, taken from the last fool to try and murder the monster, holds the blade flat in both palms to prove her intent. ❝ PLEASE. Leave, or let me come with you. I know my way around these woods, and maybe together -- we’d have a chance. ❞
