[Outside the City Gates] Tormenting a Scavenger (Isalie)

[Draven]

4th Summer 513 Draven had only recently arrived in the City of Syliras, at the very beginning of Summer to be precise. He'd taken 'residence' in the city, spending most of his time exploring the inner citadel. He'd already seen the grand bazaar, the house of an old couple, on whom he was already planning a joke involving their tabby cat, and various other landmarks. He had a wonderful time; it couldn't have gone better... ~ except for one small thing of course: his pet raven was unable to follow him within the grand citadel, and as such Draven had spend most of his time in Syliras alone, all by himself. Still, he didn't plan on abandoning his oldest friend, and had already decided to leave the city every now and then, to have some fun with his raven. He'd just leave the city, possess his raven and go out on some sort of adventure. In his ghostly life he'd done so many times already, and would just keep doing so. Yet today, there was one small problem. He had left the city, floating through the city gates for once, and had just stood there, waiting for his friend to come. He hadn't though, and Draven had sighed. This had happened before: his raven, which normally did nothing but wait for his master when he was alone, had gone on some adventure of his own. Draven wondered whether it was mating season already, knowing the nature of most of his raven's adventures. He shrugged, quickly removing an unpleasant image out of his young mind. Draven spend the next few minutes pacing about, slightly annoyed by his raven's rash decision to have some alone-time. Normally he didnt really mind; the raven was allowed a life of his own, but he had really looked forward to possessing his raven today. It was one of his more peculiar sides: having spend his life stuck in a single room, the sole thought of being stuck in his own form made Draven shiver... as such he often possessed wildlife, or other inferior beings. He felt his ethereal skin itch at the thought of waiting another - or perhaps even multiple days for his raven to return; he had to possess something, if only to free himself from his spectral body. Gritting his teeth and walking around the city walls, in an attempt to clear his mind, he first noticed her: a young human woman. She was looking through the foliage surrounding the Bronze Woods, a firm - albeit thinned by hunger - looking horse at her side. Draven figured she must've lost something within the woods, and was in the midst of searching for it. Then again, she did look quite... ~ wild, as in having spend quite some time within the woods. Draven, safely hidden within the city walls, started eyeing the weakened horse. He had never possessed an animal so big before, and the thought alone was quite frightening. He shrugged, perhaps he should enter the city and look for a cat, or even some rodent. The Knights didnt like that though, and he had already felt how the people looked at him, with a mixture of fear and contempt on their faces. He would have to keep searching; his inner child still keeping him from attempting to posses something as big and scary as a horse. Weighing the pros- and cons of entering the city once more, he started eyeing the young woman. She was pale, and he immediatly noticed a pair of deep blue eyes ... She didnt look that strong though, and he had possessed people before. Nowadays his childlike fear of the Knights witheld him from possessing someone within the city, but still ~ this woman, who was doing whatever she was doing there, didnt look like a citizen of Syliras, and with the Knights nowhere to be seen... ~ He smiled. Slowly nearing the woman in his ethereal form, he started surrounding both her and her horse in a (dissapointingly) thin fog of soulmist. From within, tendrils of mist slowly reached towards the woman, while Draven released a shivering, but childlike, laugh. This woman, she was currently in danger of having to start a fight for her own body.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

It wasn't often that Isalie ventured so close to the city walls, but... desperate times, and all. The girl was starving, having given most of what she could she could find in the foliage to Shadow, her mount. At least the horse was looking slightly more healthy than he had in a good few seasons. His dark hair was still matted and coarse, but it had a slight shine to it that Isalie could only remember as a distant memory. Shadow had never been big - Isalie had purposely picked a pony, but he was filling out once more. He was also strong enough for her to ride for longer periods of time, and at faster speeds, now. Which was the only reason Isalie had risked coming this close to Syliras.

Whilst the small horse grazed on the lush summer grasses, Isalie spent a chunk of the morning searching for something small that she could kill and cook. The ex-slave had no such luck, however, missing everything she saw or heard in the undergrowth. I really need to get a bow, or something. After one final attempt at throwing her small knife at a rat, she trudges over dejectedly and crouches down to pick up her blade. This thing wasn't designed or made with the intention of throwing. The girl was only guessing, making things up as she went along: like she had any idea about knives. She couldn't even write her own name.

Clearing a patch of ground in front of her, to reveal dried mud, Isalie scrawls some squiggles in the ground, trying to replicate her name from what she remembered of lettering she had seen. It looked nothing like any linguistic entity she had ever seen before, but it would do. Standing up, she glances back over to Shadow, who was happily ruminating on the grass. She smiles slightly; at least one of them was having a successful day, though there was much of it left, Isalie doubted she could turn it around for herself.

Deciding that, unless she wanted to eat the grass too, her best bet of finding something to eat would be in the city's refuse. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't returned to this place to go through waste, she had hoped that she might run into that girl, Wanda, again. They had agreed to meet, after all. Where is she? Isalie was hardly known for her patience, and it was wearing thin, even if it had only been six or so days. Isalie had eaten like a Queen that day, relatively. And she craved more.

The young woman was not long into her new search for food before she felt a shiver run down her spine, and all of the hairs on the back of her arm stood on end. A high pitched, cold laugh could be heard echoing all around her, and she spins in search of the origin of the sound. Finding only a mist, of sorts, Isalie frowns; this was hardly the time of day, or even of the year, to find such weather.

Only when she feels the cold, uncomfortable presence of another, does she realise what might be going on. Isalie had never seen a ghost herself, but she had heard stories of what they were like, and what they could do. A small cry escapes her lips. No. What? Why? Who would be interested in me? Even among the dead? This can't be happening. No! I won't let it.

The girl remains standing, her knuckles turning white as she grips onto the nearest branch for balance. Her vision remains intact, if slightly foggy, and her ears begin to ring. her mind begins to feel duller too, as if a blanket had fallen over it. She feels something pushing against her, bending her, as if to make room for another. For every action, she pushes against it, offering her own reaction, hoping to deter the ghost, if that's what it was. She had no idea what she was doing, what was going on, or how to make it stop, but she tried nonetheless.