[Flashback] Remembrance (Miharu)

[Amondaris]

30th day of Winter, 509 AV. Today was a good day. The sun was shining pleasantly, it's aureate rays for once bathing the world unimpeded by quarrelsome flurries of snow. Oh, it was still cold, certainly, but in a crisp, refreshing manner that invigorated Amondaris with each sweet lungful of chill air he took. It was as close to a normal sunny day as Taldera was likely to come, and this suited the would-be hunter just fine. He hated the heat. It sapped the strength from his limbs and rendered him as weak as your average drowned kitten. He much preferred the brisk bite of frozen air, something Taldera had in abundance, which pleased him no end. Besides. Today was his birthday. Granted, the annual acknowledgement of the day of his birth meant little to him, bar the fact that it gave his family an excuse to be more pleasant to him than was the norm, which was never a bad thing, but still. They expected him to stay indoors and sit there all day like a good boy, but he'd rather be a summer-loving tikita than wither away inside like that. The very thought made him shudder. And so, as with every birthday before this, he had snuck away while the womenfolk were otherwise distracted, and set off to explore the frozen paradise that surrounded Avanthal. He had been loping along through the snow as best he could manage, given that the snow made any movement sluggish, for some time now. His breath came in short, percussive bursts, exploding from his lungs in blasts of white mist that swept past him as he ran. His chest burned despite the icy air he sucked in with each breath, and his legs felt as if they had been filled with molten lead, suffused with a dull, fiery ache. He was exhausted, each movement requiring enormous willpower to complete, but he pushed himself onwards, ever onwards. The muscles in his legs burned, yet they continued to contract and expand as necessary, pumping up and down with each step he took, foot ploughing through the blessedly thinning snow without cease. He felt like he could just collapse and sleep away the rest of his days, but he was almost there. So close now. Two words resounded within his skull over and over with each step. Almost. Crunch. There. Crunch. The mantra went on and on, repeated again and again with implacable patience. A few chimes later, he came within sight of the immense forest, the gargantuan trees denoting the beginning of a wood of truly gigantic proportions. Slowing, Amondaris managed to stagger over to the bole of the nearest tree, gasping from exertion as he sunk back against the huge trunk, sliding down to the ground with a muffled thump. he felt as if he had been set afire. Sweat soaked every inch of his body, drenching the inner clothing he wore, a glistening sheen of perspiration covering his brow. Quite the workout, but worth the hideous aches and pains that now ran riot throughout his body. He was here, finally. Leaning his head back against the rough texture of the bark, he closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing himself time to catch his breath, and rest his wearied limbs, drawing his immense white-furred cloak about him as a makeshift blanket. Just over a bell later, he was wandering throughout the forest, awestruck by the sheer scale of everything. He had heard about the Northern Reaches, listened to all the tales of trees and animals that grew to immense proportions, but he had thought them simply fanciful tales spun to impress children. He had since changed his mind. Everything here was utterly beautiful. The deep, verdant green of the lush flora bathed in the golden touch of the sun's rays, the snow thin on the ground here, courtesy of the immense boughs that towered overhead. He had even spied a giant rabbit out of the corner of his eye. The thing had been petching huge, three times the size of the little fellows he'd hunted before! A broad, boyish grin spread across his features as he gazed about in barely concealed wonder, eyes a deep, content orange. This has to be Caiyha's garden. Nothing should grow this big without Her attention. Still, while he was brimming with youthful exuberance and excitement over exploring this overgrown paradise, he was not so foolish as to not pay attention to his surroundings. The deep, amber hue of his eyes glinted in the sunlight as they darted back and forth, roaming ceaselessly about the forest floor as he roamed forward, ever on the alert for danger. With giant prey came the giant predators he had heard so much about, and he wasn't about to let something that big and that dangerous sneak up on him unawares. While he had brought his twin blades with him which hung at his waist, he wasn't entirely sure if he could bring down something of Dire size and live. Best to avoid them at all, if possible. Caution tempered his otherwise unrestrained joy, born of a most formative experience from his past. He could not, would not forget Rhanor or the lessons the man had imparted before his passing. The real reason Amondaris fled the comfort of his home and his family on his birthdays, and the reason his mother permitted it without comment, was that it was the anniversary of Rhanor's death. Four years, now, four long, weary years since his surrogate father had passed. Less than a year since he had snapped and torn that petcher Khanu apart with his bare hands. Not that he remembered doing such, but he did remember waking up to find the pile of gore that used to be the older man. As he continued to wander the forest, slower now, his eyes faded to a dull and jaded grey as he went over that horrendous night in his mind's eye. Thoughts turned toward the past and the losses it held as the young man roamed the woods much like a pale wraith, wreathed in pure white clothing as he tended to be. Normally, it would provide excellent camouflage in the stark tundra of Taldera, but here amongst the towering bulk of the dire trees, what blending properties it offered were slim indeed. All in all, lost in his thoughts and sticking out like a sore thumb, he would not prove to be the most difficult being in the world to track, if one desired to do so.

[Miharu Mindi]

OOCSorry! I thought I replied to this earlier...

Golden eyes watched the young man's passing into the dark of the forests. The wolf-girl was huddled down in a small snowbank left by a break in the trees above, hunkered down so low that her white fur blended perfectly into it. The black that tipped her ears and traveled along her spine simply faded into the shadows from the branches surrounding her.

She'd been tracking a young wolf that had been chased out of its pack, not for any personal interest - no, it had decided to go for easy prey, and had taken to lurking outside of Avanthal waiting to catch a single traveler unawares. She'd found the remnants of two of his kills, and taken it upon herself to hunt him down. It was better this way, better that he die by tooth and claw than the cold steel of a blade. And it wasn't as if she had anything better to do.

Only a few months since she'd been cast out of her home, and she hadn't yet built up the courage to wander far from Avanthal. She half-hoped that one day when she lurked near the gates, she'd catch a familiar scent, hear someone call her name, tell her it'd all been a mistake and that they knew it wasn't her fault. She hadn't yet given up on that, and so she stayed close.

This was really just something to pass the time.

Still, though, she felt a frisson of worry as she caught the human's scent, and he wandered into view. What was he doing here? And all alone... he looked so young. And vulnerable.

Just as she had that thought, she heard the crunch of too-thin snow ahead of her. No! she whined, low in her throat, as the wolf she'd been tracking let out a vicious growl and sprang towards Amondaris. The maddened wolf was rangy and thin, a dark grey body with a black-furred face and yellow teeth.

He was too close to him already, between her and the boy - she wouldn't get to him in time! She took off anyway, growling a challenge in hopes of distracting him from his prey.

[Amondaris]

A wandering mind is just as dangerous as a wandering eye. One of the many, many tidbits of wisdom that Rhanor had fed to Amondaris' young mind.The older man claimed that the sayings dated from before the Valterrian, but the youngling was convinced that he had simply made them up himself in order to sound wise and well-traveled. The one that came to mind now was in reference to how a man allowing his mind to drift to thoughts of other women in the presence of his wife was just as likely to earn him a slap as letting her see his eyes roam to places better left alone. The true meaning, Amondaris suspected, was more concerning situations such as he now found himself in. He had, quite simply, allowed his thought to become distracted, and the result of which was he was now being attacked by a rabid wolf. Wonderful. And on his birthday, too. Should have listened to Rhanor. He would have greatly liked to say that it all happened in slow motion, that his hunter's reflexes kicked in and allowed him to view the situation as if in a dream, or like they were moving underwater. It didn't. One moment, he had been meandering along through he woods, and the next a large dark blur with fangs was barelling towards him with alarming speed. He had just enough time to register that another, worryingly large wolf was heading his way as well before the more immediate threat collided with his chest. Crashing to the ground with enough force to elicit a pained grunt from the young man, he reacted instinctively, throwing up his right forearm against the slavering beast's neck while the other grasped the wolf's ear, desperately trying to pull the thing away from him. Judging from how the snapping, drooling jaws were still scant inches from his face, this tactic wasn't working very well, and nor would he be able to hold the thing off like this for very long. Eyes wide and dyed a lurid yellow from alarm, they proved an interesting contrast to the golden, crazed eyes of the wolf that was currently attempting to eat his face. If those large teeth got anywhere near the distressingly soft flesh they so eagerly sought, he wouldn't be winning any beauty contests any time soon. Or doing much of anything, really. A steady, incredibly unhelpful stream of curses ran through his head without cease, blocking off all attempts at rational, logical thought. PetchingwolvespetchingwoodspetchingPETCH. He had to get his head together. So he was being attacked by a starving wolf. Big deal. He'd been attacked by things before. Granted, he'd been prepared for them, he'd had his swords out and there was only one of them...So this particular situation was just a smidgen less in his favour. Not to mention the other, huge wolf he'd glimpsed before being brought down. If that joined the party, he wouldn't last two shakes of a bear's tail. There had to be a way to get out of this alive and largely intact. He could try smashing his knee into the slobbering wolf's ribs until something snapped and then throw it off while it was in shock, but that would necessitate having the other wolf politely sit there and wait it's turn. Amondaris didn't fancy the chances of woodland animals suddenly developing polite etiquette. However, if he could somehow get to his sword, it would even the odds nicely. Two swords, two wolves. He was confident he could cut them both down before they felled him, but that would require somehow getting up and getting the swords out before they tore his throat out. He would much have preferred not to have to kill any wolves, or been attacked at all. Why was his luck so horribly sour? But, back to survival. He was pinned beneath the bulk of the lupine monstrosity that was straining to get to his tender throat, and that meant he couldn't get to his swords. If he couldn't get to his swords, well...He was dead, pure and simple. He needed help, or a miracle.

[Miharu Mindi]

Miharu pounded across the clearing as she watched the wolf tackle the young man to the ground. She expected to hear screams, of agony or fear, but neither sound cracked against the frozen air of the Northern Reaches. Just the confusion of the scuffle and the slavering of the wolf as it coughed to find an arm in its throat, and snapped and snarled at its prey.

He seemed to have kept the wolf from doing any damage yet, but then he just sort of laid beneath it as if unsure what to do - but then, wrestling a hungry wolf was always a trial. Closer, ever closer as her paws churned up the pine needles and snow. She might still be able to save him if he was smart about it...

The dark wolf dug it's claws into Amondaris and lunged forward just as Miharu reached them, and sharp teeth tore into the left side of the man's face. The stink of blood hit her nostrils just before she lowered her head and slammed into the other wolf. The force of her body at full-speed tumbled them both across the shadowed ground, the wolf giving a yelp of surprise and pain as they rolled into the snow.

When they regained their feet, the darker wolf shook himself and hunkered down. Miharu took a step forward, a deadly growl pouring from her throat as she offered her challenge. She was, it seemed, not at all interested in the bloody, tasty little meat-sack lying in the snow.

[Amondaris]

The white leather armour he wore blessedly negated much of the damage the wolf's claws might have otherwise inflicted. It was a great pity that Amondaris lacked any such protective covering for his face. If he had possessed one, he could very well have come away from this encounter largely intact. As it was, unfortunately for him, he lacked any such convenient measure for shielding his face. Large, wickedly sharp fangs tore into the soft flesh of the teenager's face, the yellowed teeth rending the tender flesh apart with sickening ease. Blood welled from the deep furrows in his brow and cheek, pouring forth from the ruined flesh with alarming enthusiasm. Pain erupted, every nerve in his face screaming, set afire by the cruel rents in his formerly unmarred flesh. He would have perhaps gone into shock from such an intense, sudden introduction of agony into his life, if not for two things. First, he was no stranger to pain. He had lived a harsh, physically punishing life, so he handled such things better, perhaps, than most. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, he was stirred to wrath. Rage flooded his system, dulling the blazing inferno of agony that his face had become, and fuelled him with energy, adrenaline dumping into his veins. A deep, guttural roar tore lose from his throat, the hair-raising sound more suited to a beast than the lips of a young man. Crimson flooded his eyes, twin pools of the same vibrant, deep hue as the blood that masked his features. He fully intended to rip this wolf's limbs apart, to tear it's flesh to shreds with his bare hands, if he had to. He had been just about to attempt such when, of all things, the other, larger wolf tackled the darker one with impressive force. The sudden alleviation of weight, coupled with the pained yelp from his assailant proved surprising enough to lift the fog of rage that so clouded his senses. Taken aback as he was, his survival instincts were far stronger than whatever confusion or curiosity may have arose from this bizarre situation. Staying alive was more important than wondering why the huge, lighter-furred wolf had inadvertently saved him. Pushing himself over and surging to his feet, his hands snapped down to the leather grips of his weapons. Twin blades, each easily the length of a common longsword and forged from cold iron hissed from their sheaths as the halfblood sank into a combative stance, lifting the blades up to hover over his vital areas. With these, and the blood drenching his face, and steadily dripping down over his armour, he presented a fearsome sight. Wild, bloodied and furious, he seemed more beast than man at this exact moment, and that was just fine with him. He may not have been a wolf, but he possessed fangs of his own, just as deadly as those that had torn his face. And his were bigger. The wolf would be losing far more than a simple chunk of it's face. He was not, however, an idiot. The other, larger wolf was obviously far more interested in his aggressor than Amondaris himself, which suited him just fine. As big as it was, though, the little one could still do considerable damage to it if given the chance. He had seen what small dogs could do to larger ones. Get in, duck under and tear the throat out. And then there was the matter of his debt. He took the saving of a life very seriously, even if it was a wolf that had done it, and he always paid his debts. So it was that he cautiously approached the bigger wolf's left flank, keeping a respectful distance from the large beast as he did so. Just as he was about to turn back to the darker wolf, the maddened thing launched itself at Miharu, lips peeled back to bare those yellowed teeth, now stained with the blood of Amondaris. Snarling, and baring his own teeth, Amondaris stepped forward and lifted his leg, smashing the base of his ice-boots into the beast's flanks. The spikes, intended to grant purchase upon the ice and snow, punctured he wolf's hide shallowly, but the real damage was from the sheer power that had gone into that kick. Ribs would doubtless have been broken from the impact. The animal rolled aways a small distance, blood slicking it's flank as it oozed forth from the wounds inflicted by the boot, yet quickly came to it's feet. Pain had furthered maddened the already unstable beast, it's golden eyes glinting with that unique, instantly identifiable gleam that belonged to wild animals and the insane. Once again, instead of fleeing, it charged at the man, padded paws thumping into the bloodied snow as it went, sending up flurries of the sullied powder in it's wake. Amondaris lowered into a readied stance, his sword braced against his hip and ready to spear the animal if it leaped at him again. Vengeance would be his.

[Miharu Mindi]

The great white wolf sensed the man approaching on her flank, and shifted ever-so-slightly in case he mistook her for an enemy. But no, his attention was focused solely on the creature who'd blooded him. Lips curled back over her gums, and she licked her teeth and growled low in her throat.

Your life ends here, killer-of-men, she snarled at him.

You dare to challenge me, female? he growled back. You will not steal my prey!

With that, the maddened wolf launched himself at her. She immediately dropped into a crouch, prepared to defend herself, when the man lept forward and gave a ferocious kick to her challenger. She blinked, surprised at such a move - humans weren't often ones for using all their limbs - but in a flash the other wolf was back up and his attention diverted.

When he lunged once more for Amondaris, Miharu waited a half-second and then pounced. It may have looked as if she missed her target, for the other wolf streaked past her and continued towards the waiting man. But then the attacker gave a yelp, and Miharu's muzzle was stained with blood as she passed behind him, having hamstrung his back left leg.

She gave a sharp bark at the man - Now! Use your metal now!

[Amondaris]

There was a moment of mild confusion as the larger, white wolf seemed to have completely missed the other lupine, having gone past it instead of knocking it off it's course, and Amondaris had assumed it was trying to do, but then he noted the fresh crimson colouring the wolf's formerly pristine white fur, and understood. A glancing blow like that, from a normal wolf? At any other moment, no doubt, the man would have been impressed. Now, however, he didn't have the time. The wolf, though injured, was still flying his way and - Was the white one barking at him? No, he was imagining things. Dismissing the brief thought, he dug his left heel into the loamy earth and braced himself, the dark metal of his right sword snapping forth, the wolf's own impetus serving to impale it upon the cold, unyielding weapon. Still, it snapped and snarled, frantically trying to free itself from the blade that speared it's chest, but the struggles were growing fainter and fainter as the blood flowed from the large wound. Lowering the dying animal to the ground, Amondaris gently extracted the sword, and knelt, gathering the wolf to him. He cradled the beast's head against his chest, stroking the blood-matted fur with a tender, caring touch. A soft, quiet sob tore loose from the youth as he held the dying animal, burning tears mixing with the blood covering his face as they fell onto the wolf's fur. The light finally left the dark wolf's eyes as it's soul fled the fatally wounded body, it's pain ended. The young hunter rocked back and forth, still cradling the lifeless body to his armoured chest. Voice thick with grief, he offered up a prayer to the Goddess of Nature. "Caiyha. I have taken the life of one of your children. Guide his soul to a verdant paradise full of plentiful game, of companions and joy. Let his life there be better than the one I was forced to take from him today." After this brief bout of speech, he lapsed back into silence, remaining as he was for a time. Eventually, however, he laid the wolf down with heart-breaking tenderness upon the sullied layering of snow, and lifted his gaze to Miharu. His eyes had shifted to a deep, sorrowful sea blue, contrasting sharply with the red blood that masked his pale skin. He seemed to have forgotten about his wound entirely. One might have expected him to speak again, or to move, or make some form of gesture at all, but he simply knelt there and stared at Miharu with those grief-filled, ocean blue eyes, and said not a word.

[Miharu Mindi]

When Amondaris finally looked up, it was not a silver wolf that waited for him.

Crouched in the snow, breathing hard and staring at him with open confusion on her face, was a girl of perhaps no more than sixteen. Her skin was as pale as the wolf's fur had been, so white he could see the veins at her throat and wrists. Tumbles of blond curls fell over her shoulders and gave her some semblance of modesty, as did the way she crouched, but it was readily apparent that the girl was completely nude. The eyes were the same, though - bright, liquid gold, and staring right at him.

"Why do you give tears for him?" she said, her voice soft and low. It baffled her, for she had no comprehension of such sentimentality. Fighting and death, that was the way of the beasts that lived in the forest, and the wolf had been just a part of that.

[Amondaris]

Well, that certainly explained a lot. His mysterious white saviour had turned out to be a Kelvic. This was something of an unexpected turn of events. At least he couldn't say he never got surprised on his birthdays. Still too entrenched in his sorrow, or suffering from some sort of delayed shock, the boy barely took notice of Miharu's obvious lack of clothing. He just kept his gaze focused upon her face as he shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly. When he spoke, his voice was soft, surprisingly so for such a large person, and wondrously musical. "Why do you not? Humans are not worth shedding tears for. Animals such as this wolf are." His fur-strapped hands, dyed red with the wolf's blood, lifted to hover before his face as his eyes shifted from the Kelvic to stare at them. "His only crime was hunger, and having gone mad from it. He just wanted to stop the pain in his stomach. I can't fault him for that." Lowering his hands, he set them atop his knees heavily, his shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been placed upon him. "I only kill when necessary, to eat. This was not necessary. Could have been avoided if I had just stayed home. He would still be alive." A moment passed, and a frown contorted his brow, the wounds upon his face shifting unpleasantly with the gesture. Lifting his gaze to her once again, he gestured at her with a faint wave of one large hand. "Why did you save me?"

[Miharu Mindi]

She blinked at him once, just a shutter of blond lashes, and then a frown twisted her mouth.

"That's stupid," she said bluntly. "His pack should have killed him instead of turning him out. And he should have stayed in the woods and hunted rabbits as he was meant instead of preying on man. Any animal knows that once you become a killer-of-men you are a thing hunted. You are not the first he's attacked, and had he won? You would not be the last. And had you stayed home, he would have died just as surely. I have been hunting him for the last sevenday."

Had followed his scent, pursued him with a single-minded determination that she was only capable of when hunting. Yes, she would have killed him. Might not have come out of it as whole and hale as she was, but she would have gotten the job done, and none been the wiser.

"I saved you because it was not your day to die. It was his," she said with a nod down at the corpse even now growing cold. Then she shivered, goosebumps rising on her flesh. "We need to get moving or the blood will bring scavengers. You're hurt. I will see to it." And with that, she stood up and took off at a spring for the snowbank she'd been hiding in before this all started. A moment of digging released her pack from the spot she'd buried it in, and she dragged out a wool dress, undyed and a bit dingy for it. She pulled it over her head, and then shoved a pair of low boots on her feet. The final item, a fur cloak rolled into a tube and tied to the bottom of the pack, was thrown over her shoulders and tied on. Then she snatched up her pack and headed back towards him.

And pulled a skinning knife from her pack, and moved towards the wolf's carcass as if she planned to take the pelt with her.