Open Don't get into Bed with rats.

[Marone]

38th Fall 514 AV

Weakened. Hungry. Impetuous. This was the state that the people of Sunberth were in but not Marone. Being a part of the Sun's Birth and supporting it through his work in the Armoury was a life choice he has not regretted. In return the Sun's Birth has been very kind to him in providing everything he needed to live in Sunberth. A safe place to stay, a job which pays well and something proven to be very important with the shortage this season. Food. With the stores closed and people hoard what little of their food they had left if not already fighting over them to get through the season and Marone exempt from it he felt very good indeed.

Although the food shortage did give him a few ideas of what he could be doing in the future. As his job involved reusing many dead animals to make weapons from their bones it may be prudent to keep some of the remains properly. When the people are desperate enough they would eat anything and the meat would be able to keep for a while. Marone might even be able to recoup the expenses of acquiring his raw materials with some profit. The plans would have to be made for some other time.

Because Marone currently had other plans which had their own problems.

With the food shortage everyone was taking everything which could be eaten. Where before Marone could just walk out of the Sun's Birth to find some dead body of some animal there was nothing of the sort he could use when everyone wanted everything edible. Even the wild dogs, stray cats and fat rats he used on occasion were nowhere to be seen. That left him to rely on some of his other sources.

He tried the market, the stalls by the bay, the butcher and even the kennels but there was nothing for him. Not unless he was going to pay a lot of money against the high demand. For Marone who rather make use of something not normally used by people for almost nothing he wasn't going to do that which left him with one choice.

If he couldn't get his materials inside the city he was going to have to try his luck outside of it.

There were many options to his choice like the farms or just whatever unlucky animal which crosses his path if he could overpower it but Marone felt they wouldn't be as good. He wouldn't be the only one thinking about finding what he needed outside Sunberth and those he would compete against? Those would be the hungry, desperate souls. The ones that might kill him in thinking he had some food on him. They were the ones he had to avoid or have a way to escape from if he ran into them.

And his chosen option hit him right away. What better place to go for that than the Dust Bed? The mists present since early in the season should ward off most people there for thier weak reasons of being inquisitive or paying respects to the dead especially with its reputation of being haunted. Marone himself didn't quite believe in ghosts because that would completely ruin what he believes with malediction. The mists would also help him run away if he needed to until he reached the safety of the city again.

With his choice made Marone started to make his way to the Dust Bed.

But still unwilling to chance on the risks. Hungry people, bandits, the wolves the Dust Bed was famous for or worse Marone kept his eyes out for any materials he could experiment on. He saw some rodents which seem a little too fast for him to capture on his own, bare plants which wouldn't attract any animals and even signs of a campfire that has burned out a few days ago. After closer examination of the place which lacked any signs of habitation, not ambers in the remains of the campfire nor beddings previously used by whoever was here or footsteps except the small ones which might be from animals Marone believed it to be abandoned and of no use to him.

It took some time until Marone saw the mists in front of him. 'I must be here' he thought to himself after remembering how mists were described as. Staying put near the Dust Bed but not going any further to reach the city. Marone stared into the mists expecting something to turn him off before pacing a few times in front of it trying to decide what to do.

"I've came all this way already. Might as well see what I can find in there" he said trying to convince himself before stepping into the mists to see what he can find in the Dust Beds.

[Seyena]

Sunberth’s cemetery had been shrouded in a cloak of mist. Fog’s lighter cousin was swirling about the Dust Bed’s stoney surface and hugging its rough tombstones. It couldn’t be any more perfect. The mist was giving the hilly area a moisture that transformed it into the perfect home. Not for Seyena, of course, but for centipedes. Giant centipedes, to be specific.

All centipedes carry venom, some more potent than others. Seyena had a hunch that several of their organs could also be very effective in the creation of poisons. Why just use the poison glands when you can use the blood, the lungs, the eyes? Without a rigid guide, she wasn’t sure whether this was common knowledge of the Chilopoda family that she was missing or if she was on the path of new discovery. What she did know was that in order to approve of her suspicions, she must perform a rigorous dissection of a centipede’s body. She couldn’t do that without a centipede.

Lovers of both dry and damp, the giant centipedes that she was targeting were most often found curled under logs and stones, making the Dust Bed their ideal residence and Seyena’s ideal hunting ground.

Barefoot and with her cloak pooling in crimson silk around her shoulders, she ventured into the thick mists. In case of an aggressive centipede, her hands were covered in her thick fire gloves, while in case of bandits or wolves, she kept her Symenestran lash at her hip under her cloak. She admitted to herself that the lash would be useless in a pinch due to her lack of skill, but it was better than nothing.

Her first step into the clouds was swift. Immediately greeted with a milky blindness, she turned back for reassurance of her location. But there was no reassurance. She was completely engulfed in the mist. From all directions, the vapour clung to her hooded form, limiting her vision to a measly foot. It became clear that she had underestimated the Dust Bed’s veil. Her sense of direction was failing her. Seyena took another hopeful step, eyes trained on the ground. She decided that she should start in her search and leave her worries until later.

She didn’t venture too far from her original position, or so she hoped. Her pace was hesitant and at each stone she crouched carefully to take a peek underneath. Minutes after entering, she heard a voice.

"I've came all this way already. Might as well see what I can find in there.” It was a man, a few meters away at least. Seyena almost toppled over from her crouch with surprise. She straightened quickly, unsure. She cleared her throat uncertainly and called out. “Hello?”

[Marone]

Marone had only taken a few steps into the mists when he heard a hello. If he was still inthe city he wouldn't be so taken aback by the greeting but in a place which he felt no one else would come to unless they had a good reason or bad intents he was a little scared. He took a quick look back to check if he was followed.

Even if he was only a little bit in the mist the white curtain had already surrounded him. He couldn't even see the path he just came from. He went back a few steps for a look behind when he reached the border and found it was still the same. Empty and devoid of life. He took a hard look at the trees and foliage in case there was anyone hiding in them but such methods were beyond him and he gave up.

He took a few steps back to where he was when he heard the voice and paused to decide on what to do. On one hand it could be someone that is visiting a relative or friend buried in the Beds. In the other it could be some blood thirsty monster that wanted to add someone to the Bed's collection. Marone liked the Bed's collection especially if he would be able to use it one day but he has no intention of being added to it.

Marone stood straight in attention and said in a deep loud voice the way he heard the Dragoons when they had drills in the Proving Grounds "yes? Who is it?"

There was no reason for Marone to do that except to make sure the source of the greeting would be sure of the direction he was at from his reply since he was unable to tell where she was from her one word. A voice like a Dragoon might also make anyone with ill will think twice before trying to come with the intent to harm. That being said he took a few steps to the side quickly to get deeper into the mists after that. Even with his boots cracking hard on the rocks Marone had no doubt the mist would do a good job of hiding him just as it did her.

Judging he was far enough from where he was to at least catch a glimpse of his new companion if she came about Marone got into a crouch and held on fast to one of the gravestones by him. He was actually touching it uncomfortably but hoping the combination of the mists and its closeness would help him appear as a gravestone himself unless under close scrutiny but by then he would be able to assess if the voice was a threat or not.

Unless it was a ghost but Marone knew for a fact there was no such thing as ghosts.

[Terror]

Terror's hunger had driven her to extreme measures, urging her to take to scavenging the kills of others for the barest sustenance, leaving her to hunt insects, and driving her to take up residence for a bit of time in a bed of bones.

She scrabbled at the dust even now, gnawing at the salvaged remains of one of the bodies put beneath the dirt in some old ritual that confused the Zith and that failed to instill any sense of respect for the dead in her. After all, food was food, and fresh food was very scarce. Rats and birds and small animals aside from the vermin were hard to come by, yet resorting to digging at the places humans hid their dead was not an act that Terror considered below her.

Before her, she'd managed to finish the work of men and women long past. The grave had laid open, the body within bared to the elements and therefore ragged and wretched, yet the meat had been satisfying, if tough. It was like the carrion one dug from the dens of wolves when the weakest of the hounds had their fill, left to dry and rot.

It was enough.

If Terror had not feasted from such a corpse before, she might have vomited upon the smell as it invaded her nose, yet there were worse smells to exist in Kalea and Cyphrus. In the deeps of the Spider Nest alone there had been a deep smell that she sometimes imagined to be stuck in her fur, leaving her to bathe and groom until she was sore and silky and unhappy, because such smells did not fade.

Before finishing with the corpse entirely, Terror ripped from it some of the more easily transported parts. Certain things had withered and decayed, but what had not was stripped from the bones of the carcass and salvaged for later, when meat was again hard to come by.

It was in the midst of these actions that Terror heard something, and she cocked her head to listen, emerging slowly from the deep hole to stand guard over it as she sought the source of the sound.

She inhaled deeply but could only smell the reek of the decaying body. When she licked her lips, she could taste it. Her nose wrinkled. Her mouth hung agape.

More sounds. Words? What sort of words?

The Zith cocked her head again and bristled, hackles raised. Even with her mouth open, she curled her lips to show her teeth as the dogs do when they are trying to threaten something. There was nothing she could see, but she moved into the stance instinctively.

The sound was amplified oddly in the mist, confusing the Zith as to where it would have come from, or where the other might have emerged, yet she started forward and left the scavenged remains of a future meal where they lay. Focused upon finding the source of the noise, and what might be a meal of fresh meat, she chose to prowl and stalk it instead.

[Seyena]

The mists sighed around her body, hinting at movement. Her eyes, however, sensed nothing but a blur of grey blending with shifting shadows. “Yes? Who is it?” The man’s voice came more strongly than expected, broad and heavy. It was warning, defensive, but revealing of his general location. However, it was still difficult to pinpoint. Seyena cocked her head for some hint of his presence — a sniff, a step, something.

The mist danced once again, now accompanied by the crunching of rocks beneath the soles of tough boots. The sound grew louder, closer, and then came to a halt. Seyena surveyed her surroundings, but saw nothing beyond the haze. Momentarily abandoning her self-appointed mission, she took a tentative step in his direction.

Her hands reached in front of her, groping for some sort of contact. Her long arms stretched out, her fingers found a tree trunk wrapped in clouds. She clung to it as though it was an anchor, some way of discerning her location. She felt lost in the inconsistent sea of mist. Now near the slim trunk, she could see it clearly. Its sight was the only lucid view to behold, each dent and wrinkle suddenly evident.

“I am Seyena,” she breathed. She considered giving more information, but her race and birthplace was of no relevance. Though she held pride in her heritage, it didn’t apply to the situation. It would become apparent upon sighting.

Her palms pressed against the bark, eyes alternating between the ground and the shadows. She could see the outlines of gravestones and slight, boney trees, but no men. Her brow furrowed. “What is your name? Where are you?”

His guarded voice tempted her to reach for her Symenestran lash, but she reconsidered. The weapon would do little. It was nothing more than a safety blanket. If he was looking for her blood, he would no doubt find it. Her only hope was a bite and an escape into the branches. Seyena wasn’t too adept in the biting of people. It was an awkward action, one that required the attacker to be swift and no-nonsense. She wasn’t sure if she wanted more practice.

[Marone]

Being hidden as he was Marone had no problem in putting his full attention into trying to detect the new presence. Even though his skills in keeping himself hidden is not at the level of the many other Sunberth unscrupulables which the woman would be glad isn't him, the mist was good in doing most of the work. A cloak effectively keeping him out of view unless she came really close.

Even so Marone still had no idea where she was. No other sound from he while he kept an eye out in all directions. The tombstone he kept himself close to being his only blindspot. The very same tools he was using to keep hidden, the mists and the tombstone, they were also working against him. There was only two things left for him to do. Wait for her to get close if she chose to come to his direction after he spoke out or wait for as long as he was able to until he felt it was safe to leave.

And then he heard her name. Seyena. It didn't really mean much since it was the first time he heard it.

Marone look to her direction but he still couldn't see the woman. Only a tall imposing figure. A tombstone maybe? Or a tree? Those were his immediate thoughts. That definitely wasn't a woman. Not unless women came in the size of giants now and the only giants he has seen all his life in Sunberth were those multicoloured ones he knew better than to piss off.

And then he heard her voice again coming from the tall figure. Still there was no sign of her. None but the faint movements in the side easily attributed to the wind. Was it even windy? Marone wasn't quite sure but her questions did make him less wary.

If she actually meant him any harm she wouldn't have bothered with his name or where he was unless she was really that good at what she does. Marone decided not to give her his name. Not yet. But he will indulge her on where he is. The two times she spoke helped Marone confirm where her position was which towards the figure and beyond. He took a few crouched steps forward towards it and then straightened up.

He might've lost his nice hiding spot by the tombstone but with how effective the mist has been so far Marone was confident it would be able to provide him a great getaway if his judgement was wrong.

"I'm right here" he said while standing right in between his hiding spot and the tree. His hands reached to the side where his dagger was and he felt safer after being able to make sure it was still there despite all the awkward movements he had to make while trying to hide earlier. He wasn't sure he would be able to hide quickly again if he needed to.

Keeping his eyes trained right on what he identified as a tree now that he was close enough to see it, it was his turn to ask the woman "why don't you show yourself?"

[Terror]

There was much to hear in these mists that clouded the Zith's senses, much to want for and much to seek. Again and again, she ducked and paced forward, lifted her head and ducked, her path a meandering and unpatterned thing to take her nearer where the voices were. Fresh food was better food. Perhaps there could be a way to satiate other desires whilst eating what spoke.

Yes, that was most appealing. It would need to be considered.

Terror could not smell them in this fog. She still tasted her meal, the fetid rot heavy on her tongue and in her throat. She could smell the taste of earth, oddly flavoured. But no person.

Their voices were her beacon, guiding her through the mists. She gouged the hard packed earth with her claws, her wings slightly extended to prepare for the moment she'd need to frighten her prey.

As before, the Zith did not speak. Her ears were alert for them coming her way, which would mean she'd need to duck aside in order to properly stalk them or risk aggression and possibly wounds.

Eventually, she was near enough that one of them, the male, must be within a few tombstones of her. In the mist, she was an inky splotch in the shadow of a tall, crooked earth-tooth, but she moved, craning her neck, peering. Waiting.
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