Porfyrurius: Return of the Lycanthropes - Chapter two
Level 47 : Master Blockhead
Posted 06/30/12 9:24:27 am
He let out a large toothy grin before fully releasing Victoria, small claw marks were present in her shirt from where his talons had gripped her so firmly.
‘What... who... are you?’ Victoria dared to ask the beast.
‘Me? well... I’m Detorel . Quite a name, aye? Was the name of my father.’ He chuckled in response to her timidness. ‘And I, girlie, am what’s called a Lycan - a man who has lost his humanity to the beast within, what I am now is as close as I’ll ever be to being human again.’
Victoria looked at the mighty Lycan - he had quite a lot of muscle on him, however, not as much as the ones who had attacked her, and his eyes... did not look like the ones that had chased her either. They looked almost human. They were a deep, dark brown, almost like that of an old oak tree.
‘Why aren’t you eating me, or tearing me apart like the others were about to do?’ She asked with a very demeaning tone of voice.
Shocked by her sudden change of tone, Detorel sat down again by the fore, offering her a drink of whatever he had made in the small rusty kettle of his. He then plainly answered with, ‘Because I know how to be civil, and I practise it daily.’
‘Hm, nice to finally meet someone who doesn’t want me dead. So, why aren’t you with that other gang of wolves?’
‘Well, aren’t you just full of questions, girlie. Im not with that so called Blood-bonded Pack because they are a bunch of savage animals!’ Detorel retorted in disgust of even mentioning the other wolves.
They both fell silent, the warm flicker and odd crackle or two keeping them warm. For once in her short time on this strange place she felt safe. Victoria gave Detorel the odd glance every now and then, staring at his teeth, claws, heck even the fur - which was a dark shade of grey, not exactly black but was close to it with a lighter underside so to speak. He’d catch her staring at him, at his differences - being such a beast... They’re thoughts we’re interrupted by a long drawn out howl.
It sounded louder than it should sound, closer almost, the sounds bounced through the room sending chills down both of their spines.
Victoria went to say something but Detorel signalled her to be quite. His ears pricked again, almost in another state of mind, concentrating on the howl. By the way he was staring into the wall, thinking about what was being said, or portrayed in the howl - his facial expressions dropped, from content, to horrified, to serious.
Victoria knew better than to speak up now - he had signalled her to follow him, but be quiet. Silently they both got up, Detorel now on all fours, began to walk back the way Victoria had come to find them. He held a paw up telling her to stop. He then hurried up to investigate where the howl had come from. She stood there alone, the fire slowly dying out - darkness creeping in, all he thoughts of finally being safe drifting away...
Seconds of silence were again to follow - before the loud howls of wolves began to haunt her more. It was soon followed by the sounds of battle. Teeth ripping into fur, the scrapes of Hard Iron claws tearing at the stone and each other the whimpers and yelps of pain echoed through her as well. This continued for a minute or two - making her heart race, her blood pump and she was shaking at the knees to her surprise.
The sound of Detorel and the other wolves fighting continued to haunt the air. Before too long a definite whimper could be heard. One of them had come out victorious - Victoria just hoped it was Detorel. Silence followed yet again, the slight sounds of small rocks and dirt being crushed by something that was proceeding towards her, a slight whimper clinging to the air. A Large paw, covered in dark crimson blood - still warm, reached out and grabbed Victorias shoulder. She screamed before detecting a familiar gentleness.
‘Detorel?’ She whispered, hoping it was him.
‘Yes.... girlie. Ah -‘He remarked, in pain, bearing most of his weight onto Victoria.
‘Okay, follow me’ She told him, leading him back into the little cove. She lay him against the wall and went over to re-start the still warm pile if burnt wood. All it took was a small flicker for the fire to come alive again, providing the light and warmth that it use too. Victoria quickly hurried her way back to Detorel, to find him bleeding badly - she inspected him. Various deep wounds in his arms, a horrid gash across his thigh and half an ear bitten off. Not to mention various bite marks scattered all over him. He was breathing heavily, the fight taking toll on him.
‘Here, let me help you’ She told him, ripping the bottom of her shirt off, to make a make-shift bandage. She ran it around his bulky arm, covering the worst of the battle marks.
‘Over there girlie, there is a crate of-‘ He was interrupted by Victoria,
‘The names Victoria, and I’ll go check the crates just try to relax’ She said, getting up to scavenge through the small cluster of wooden crates. She slid the wooden lid off one of them.... nothing, just some more sticks n twigs for the fire. Next crate was a bit heavier, full of fruits and various wrapped up bits of meat - hopefully animal meat not human. Next was the smaller crate - ah, just what she was hoping for, rolls of linen cloth. She picked them up and walked back over to Detorel.
‘They may sting a little, just bare with me’ She told him, unrolling the first bandage - carefully wrapping it around his various wounds and cuts on his arms. Detorel winced and groaned in pain every now and then, trying not to flinch as pressure was applied to the wounds.
Once he was all bandaged up, quite afew hours would have to have passed, he fell asleep a while back leaving Victoria to tend to his wounds. Looking at her hands, they were covered in wolf fur and dried blood. She was disgusted by her hands, and the smell - horrid.
So Victoria got up , picked up a piece of wood that was a part of the fire and used it as a torch, beginning her walk to the small stream she saw on her way down here. It was quiet, but not eerie, just quiet...
Victoria made her way back up the tunnel path, to where she had first fallen into the crevice. Moon light no longer present through the small gap. The small hint of a sunrise, peaking through the gap - lightly brightening up the cave. The Small stream of the water, looking just as placid as when she first set eyes on it. The small gushing noise easing her mind as she sunk her hands into the water. It was warm, comforting, the fur and blood sliding off of her hands. The quite was interrupted by the soft whimper of Detorel, he managed to drag himself up the tunnel despite the pain.
‘I had to make sure... you we’re safe. We have to move, the other wolves will be sure to track down their missing comrade.’ He sniffed the air, making sure it was safe ‘ Follow me, I have a place up in the mountains, we should head there - Maybe see if we can pick up some old friends in the process.’
Victoria nodded her head before standing up and wiping her hands on her shorts. She then proceeded to follow Detorel through a small fox path up the side of the crevice; it was on the edge of a sheer cliff face. How Detorel managed to keep his balance up the path intrigued Victoria. The edge they walked on would sometimes crumble or crack beneath their feet, Detorel didn’t seem too worried about it but Victoria was scared for her life. Once they made it up and through the crevice the sun had risen and greeted them to a warm morning. The air smelt fresh and clean, much better than the air down in the small cavern, the musky deep smell of smoke and burning wood.
‘Stay alert, we never know when the Supreme’s may have their petty mutts following us. Killing a scout is considered a huge crime around here. Death being its penalty.” He instructed Victoria, who didn’t fully understand.
‘Supremes? Who are they?’ She asked as she began to follow Detorel as they started their trek to his home.
‘The Supremes are the rulers of the feral Lycans so to speak. They came here through a flash of blue and white, five of them. They were all cloaked, masked and very... particular about what they wanted.’ He begun explaining the story, as they both stepped over a fallen tree that had made a small bridge over another one of the crevices. ‘They came here for a purpose we believe, to have a world they could control and what’s easier to control then a pack of feral dogs. Toss ‘em a bone and they’ll do anything for you. They did what any impending rulers would do, they enslaved the ferals driving them more wild as it would naturally do. The few of us who decided not to be enslaved fought against them, we did our best only afew of us made it out of the walls and managed to become civil again. No, we did not stay together to risk our sanity, for if we were found and we were together, all hopes of our nation being built again would be lost. So we split up, each with our mate and we did our best.’
Victoria followed him, listening to his story about the history of this strange place - she had so many questions to ask but decided not to stray off of the subject, she would respond with afew nods or murmurs to show she was still listening to his story. Before they knew it they had already gone very deep into the forest, crossed many crevices and managed to find themselves at the edge of a river.
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