Description: A hunt through the Norwegian forests at night leads to a mysterious rendezvous between two kindred souls.
Howl to the moon!
Run free, intoxicated by the hunt,
Be one with the pack, lead by instinct.
In the snow covered forest of Norwegia, a pack of wolves are out for blood. Their furr keeps them warm, the wolves pant from their heavy race, running through the woods. Free and wild, the moonlust leading them, their howls echo through the night. Amongst those massive white beast, a slender artic fox has joined them. Graceful and swift, contrasting with the strength and bulk the wolves had, it runs faster than the other wolves, and chase the prey with them.
It was no ordinary fox : a myriad of tails flowing behind its back as it ran with them. The wolves toy with their prey, until the predators finally strike it down. A howl to the moon, an amen to this feast, which the other soon joins in.
Kiyomi had left her group of Darkstalkers this night : she loved running in the wild, letting her animal instinct gets the best of her. She had been taught to enjoy it, the bloodlust, this feral aspect of her. It was so much easier to give in when she took her vulpine form.
Soon, the fox left the group, and once it walked out of the wood, she regained her humanoid form. No use for illusions to hide her true nature here, no one would see her, in the middle of the night, near the lake where she had left her clothings.
The run had left her body hot -- warm enough to endure the cold weather momentarily, but she quickly dons her kimono. Despite the change, her face still had the blood of the doe she had killed with the rest of the pact, a detail she hasn't noticed yet. Her tails gently curl around her, acting like a furr pelt to keep her somewhat warmer.
The moonlight overhead is bright and constant, unchanging and unmoving in the crisp Norwegian air. But its reflection in the water undulates to rhythmic waves, the water lapping at the lakeside coast. It's regular, consistent: those with such antiquated techology as a wind-up watch could set their timepieces to it.
At least, until the water grows still. The reflection of the moon overhead stabilizes -- what was moments before so wavy and indistinct is now so sharp and distinct that you could pick out the craters by name if you so chose. The surface begins to resemble that of a mirror, more than an amorphous fluid in a large basin.
But mirrors would not show the shadow of a creature lurking below. This reflective surface does -- a dark mass, larger than a human. The form soon breaks the surface of the water, its intersection of water's surface marked by an inky, black, ichorous line. A headpiece, with cervine antlers, appears first, and then the icy cold expression of a highborn demon, his blue skin made even moreso by the moonlight.
As he rises to his full height, his indigo-colored attire showing no sign of the water he'd supposedly emerged from, the highborn appears to be looking straight at the kitsune. It's difficult, perhaps impossible, to know How long this noble had truly been observing the fox, before making his presence blatantly obvious -- as she seems to be the only reason for his appearance at all. One blood-red nail curls along his cheek, his elbow cradled in his hand as he makes a show of looking her up and down.
The blood surrounding her lips certainly is not unnoticed.
"Forgive me, for I wished not to startle you, milady." While he says this... perhaps it is difficult to believe a seven-foot tall demon hovering a foot over the water's surface. "I... am Jedah, of the House of Dohma. You... have proven to be most interesting, my dear." His manner of speaking is cool... it might even be suave, if not for the casual tone of condescendion.
There was something in the air -- an intangible sensation, something that caused her hair to bristle slightly, like a sixth sense trying to warn her of something. Through the years, Kiyomi had learned to trust her instinct and follows her intuition, and this inexplicable sensation made her keep all of her senses alert. The woman's vulpine ears twitch a bit, an attempt to hear any noises that would alert her of someone's presence, yet there's nothing.
The woman spares a glance behind her, back in the wood. She regets not having brought her katana with her, just in case, but perhaps she was mistaken. Though when her gaze finally returns to the lake, Kiyomi gasps in surprise at the sight of the dark mass that rises.
There was no fear in her eyes though -- only surprise. His sudden and particular appearance obviously startled her a moment, but the woman seems to regain her bearing and poise when he speaks to her. She stares at him respectfully, assessing his features, and Kiyomi bows her head gently, offering him a deference by bowing gently.
"Milord," She replies, before straightening herself up, the blood around her mouth and lips betraying the manners she has. Her lips curl into a soft smile and she says, "Me? Oh, you flatter me... How long have you been watching me?" She inquiries, her intonation slightly teasing and playful.
She then bows her head, moving folding her arms gracefully as she bends some, "Ah, but forgive me... Where are my manners, my name is Kiyomi Miyamato... Though the name I was given, as a Children of the Night is Renard,"
The water begins to flow normally beneath the highborn's feet once again, the shadow cast from his moonlit form beginning to ripple along with the gentle tide. He takes in the woman's lack of fear as a good sign, the hint of a smirk playing across his features at the show of bravado against someone of his noble upbringing, as if the scythelike blades behind his back were merely for show.
Lazily, he leans his shoulders forward, only moving once he has the woman's full attention. While he approaches, he does not appear to have any hostile attentions -- just that mildly sardonic smile.
"For several weeks now." Clearly, the noble sees little point in answering the coquettish form of the question, but answers the longer, unasked variant instead. With a light bow to honor her deference, he continues: "Perhaps it may be flattering to state the obvious, I suppose, but at the same time, I must congratulate you for not only attracting my interest, but holding it as well. You hunt marvelously, my dear."
By this point, Jedah Dohma has floated ashore. He insists on floating above the surface as well, if only to preserve his spotless attire. "Those are... two -very- different names you hold there. Japanese... and French, is it? Neither name is exactly... native to here, mmm?" He gestures around -- it's much colder here than either of the named ethnicities would prefer. But the cold... does not seem to bother him much at the moment. "Which name would -you- prefer, milady?" he asks, trading the condescension in his tone for an body language equivalent: pitching his chin upward ever so slightly.
A faint blush spreads on the woman's cheek when he mentions her exploit for the hunt. She averts her gaze, in fake modesty perhaps, "Thank you," She murmurs softly, "There are very few persons I know who can appreciate the thrill of the hunt," She replies, matter of factly.
The woman glances back at Jedah. It might not escape his senses that she seems obviously intrigued and curious about the mysterious stranger who deemed to appear before her. She bites her lips and stands still, staring and him, studying him : everything about his being exuded power and confident, something that definately doesn't go unnoticed by the kitsune.
"My... Parents were Japanese," Kiyomi explains, waving her hand dismissingly, as if she didn't want to go into the matter, "And the person who allowed me to see my true self is a French man. Thanks to him, I was rebirth, and I was given the name Renard. A name I bear with pride, given to me by my brethren," Kiyomi says, buffing her chest with pride at the last part. "Please, call me Renard," She adds.
The woman turns her gaze away, exhaling white fog from her mouth with every breath, "We call ourselves the Children of the Night. Though humans give us different name... We travel the world, in search of other like us, hunting down those who would seek to oppress us, liberating the ones who do not have the strength to rebel, offering them a chance for salvation..."
The woman lets her words trail off, lowering her gaze a bit. Her speech had that idealistic tone to it, the one that would be generously more caracteristic of the youth who believes they can change the world.
There is no shame in hunting with others, no embarassment in letting others do the dirty work for you. Life is tough... and life as a creature of the night is even more difficult. Let the strong survive, Jedah always believed; while the air of mild arrogance colors his words and actions, his mood and his tone do not seem particularly affected by her averted gaze. "No... the thrill of the hunt is something I... personally... appreciate." In fact... his chin drops, to reveal an altogether more honest smile. Honest... with just a touch of madness.
He's polite enough to merely observe her reactions for now though -- the mild deference, the flickers of interest reflecting in her features. The sinister edges on his scythelike wings catch the moonlight as he turns slightly, adopting a less standoffish posture as he listens. "Renard, then," he acknowledges, listening keenly to the woman's description of her group. Her... pack?
He tacticly acknowledges the suggestion towards the vulgar name that the humans have given his group -- as it goes without saying, it shall remain unsaid. "It is... altogether curious that your group has aims quite similar to mine. You see... I have similar aims. Freeing the oppressed, yes. Offering salvation, naturally... all for a higher purpose, of course."
The letters may be the same, but when Dohma says the word 'salvation,' it might even seem that he inflects the word differently. More lofty, more elevated -- as if he has a much higher purpose in mind for -his- salvation than Kiyomi's. In other words... the concept of 'idealism' is not a binary, on-or-off choice -- it is a spectrum. And Jedah is clearly further along than his conversational companion.
"How... many do the Children of the Night number, would you say? I'm curious, simply because I feel that the time may be nigh for making a stronger... impact upon the realm of the unenlightened humans."
The woman's lips curl into a gentle smile. It had been an unexpected meeting, by the moonlight. Though in all of her life, Kiyomi had met the most interesting people in similar setups. The man's demeanor and politeness made it a pleasant encounter, though there was something intriguing about him that made her want to learn more about him. He was, indubitably one of them, though unlike any she had ever seen before, which made him more interesting.
Renard nods her head slowly. A slow hum escape her throat, her gaze going up in thoughts, "We are a few dozens... Those who believe humans are a scourge, and wish to see them obliterated may join us," The woman says, "Not all would prove to be deadly warriors, though they can be trained.. Brave, resolute... And some desperate," Her lips curl into a faint, yet sad smile, "This is what humanity has pushed some of us to become, alas..."
The woman turns her attention to the dark man, her features growing stern, "Lune has made me, made /us/ understand, that this world, no matter how vast, will never be big enough for humans, and us, to coexist," Kiyomi tilts her head to one side and asks, "Tell me, Jedah, of the House of Dohma, is this what you seek?" She moistens her lips, taking a step foward, taking a moment to look at him from head to toes, looking up into his eyes at the last part, "The destruction of mankind?"
Humans as a scourge. Humans to be obliterated, wiped from blood-slickened nails as little more than discarded folderol. There's a keen intensity in Renard's words as she paints a pristine picture of the genocide, nay, complete extinction of the human race. The... lesser beings.
Still -- Jedah reminds himself of the pitch he'd detected in the woman's voice earlier. The tone, the unfettered fervor of the idealist.
His tone shifts, yet again. Gone is the condescension, replaced with a more amicable, agreeable aura. The blades at his back shrink somewhat, the blades dulling to catch less of the moonlight as he floats closer to Renard.
"Lady Renard... Let me first state that I do certainly admire your goals. And I do share your concern that coexistence is not really -possible- in this day and age. The humans are weak of mind, but attacking them blindly without accounting for their... drives, may prove to be a painful lesson in human nature."
As he can sense his form being looked over from head to toe, no small amount of arrogance leaches back into his grin. In Jedah's mind, she is gaining a greater sense of the flawless nature of his skin, of the chiseled precision of his muscle tone, of the deadly edges contained, restrained within his lean frame. Does he arouse her? If so -- he scarcely acknowledges it.
For, to him, the truth is plain. Why ruin such a good thing by stating the obvious?
"All in good time, my dear Lady Renard. Rome was not built in a day, and nor will the humans be slaughtered wholesale in a night. Savor the thrill of the hunt, mm? Exult in the slow bubbling of blood from the throat of a fresh kill. There is no need to rush to the finish -- with each kill, we gain more leisure, more time to enjoy the hunt."
It would not be untrue to state that Jedah has a similar goal. He explains further: "I have much more in mind than the simple -destruction- of mankind, milady. But... for now... that is a worthy goal, and one I support, yes." A brief smile punctuates the thought, as he looks up to the moon again, his eyes shimmering in the light.
"But please do be careful... the hunters seem to be banding together, I'm afraid. There is a... Society of the Full Moon, I believe it's called, and their aims bluntly counteract yours."
He peers at Renard out of the corners of his eyes. "Perhaps you've heard of them?"
The mysterious man who came to see her certainly arouses Kiyomi's curiousity. His aura was particulary interesting, one of power and strength she had not senses in a long while. One that might even surpass the one of her dear Lune. There was something intoxicating about Jedah, perhaps amplified by his mysterious nature, it was hard to tell.
A man or creature of interest was worth all of her time, and she certainly feast her eyes on him, though her true motives were not ones of flesh, even if her long alluring stare might make it feel that way. "I fear I might not see the day we will overcome them, but I can only pray our acts will make it so our Children will, one day. And if we may plow the seeds of hope amongst our kin, and make them realize the truth, then we will have at least achieved this,"
Despite her ideals, every years seemed to make them seem farther away from its realisation. Despite this resignation and fatality, she refuses to give up, if only to give them a brighter future one day.
His mention of this secret society makes her perks an ear, "Full Moon Society, you say?" Renard says, her voice filled with spite, "One more who might need to get disbanded," She snorts, "It is not the first time that we have fought against groups of hunters,"
The woman shakes her head and says, "I have not heard of them..." Her lips curl into a smile though and she asks, "Though is it the reason why you came to me? Do you wish me to infiltrate this group for you?" She asks, tilting her head to one side. After all, her power of illusions and trickeries have been quite useful to destroy such groups from the inside in the past.
It might be a mistake to think that the noble truly cares what a lowborn thinks of him. What matters more to him are the subtle, ephemeral nuances of emotion that one might not ever consciously project -- nuances that Jedah can sense in Renard. She need not follow through on her impulses for the noble to gain strength from her.
He flexes his shoulders slightly, his bladed wings dipping in concert with the motion. Perhaps he was a bit heavy-handed in his warning -- he can sense the resignation in her voice. But conscious acceptance of one's own limitations is a necessary part of growing as a person -- it's -how- one deals with those limitations that defines character. He chuckles, softly -- twice, and no more. "Your outlook is comforting, milady. I sincerely hope you can turn more to your cause, and now that I know the Children of the Night exist..." As before, he does not feel a need to restate the obvious predicate to that statement.
"Details of it are... hazy. But again, I would caution you. The hunters are strong." His lips seal tightly against one another as he turns to face Renard more directly. Pausing for a moment, he folds his arms before his chest. "It may not seem like there are many in their ranks, but the ones who are there... are quite formidable indeed." He tilts his head, eyes flitting across her features, gauging her reaction -- and making an estimate of her skills.
"Ask not what I think, milady. I've only just met you..." His smile returns, in force. "What position might =I= be in to assess =your= strengths and abilities, after all? You'll have to make that decision on your own."
Once more, he casts his eyes to the moon. "One day, we shall have our own glorious utopia, and we shall be able to walk the earth as freely as they. One day."
The vulpine lady listens to Jedah's words, finding some comfort into them. Her lips curl into a gentle smile and she tilts her head to one side, "Jedah of the House of Dohma, know that you will always find welcome arms and aid from the Children of the Night, for we seek the same goal," The woman finally replies.
Her ears twitch as she hears a loud and powerful howl into the distance. She lifts her gaze up and stares away for a long moment, letting the howl lull her like some lulaby. She closes her eyes and inhales softly, "I must depart for now, Lune is calling me," She says. The woman turns on her heels and she says, "It was an honor, meeting you, milord..." She bows her head gently and says, "I hope we will have the pleasure to meet again... And fight alongside, together, to achieve our utopia," She says.
She bows her head respectfully and says, "Now, if you'll excuse me..." She says, before she turns on her heels and slowly walks away, in the direction she heard the howl.
This encounter gave her plenty of food for thought though... This man, and this new society both intrigued her and aroused her curiousity. Perhaps the Children of the Night have found a new place to go now.
Log created on 20:46:52 01/22/2015 by Jedah, and last modified on 08:45:30 01/23/2015.