Private Tales An Answer After Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
To one so fiercely independent as Crux, so sure of his ability and certain of every action he made, it was only that much more upsetting to realize he'd perhaps fallen into a trap that he could not escape. Through experimental movements, he found that the ropes that bound his wrists together were not ropes, but metal chains. For all of his ferocity, he could not tear through metal, not without stored magic.

This brought along his second problem; Crux had thought the strange gag that they'd placed around his neck to be an odd shape and material if it were meant simply to silence him. He now realized that the strange stone set in the center of the gag was a rune designed to neutralize magical forces-- He'd seen such things in Vel Anir, but he'd never been subject to their use until now.

His captors had thought this through, far more than he gave them credit for.

With his options limited and dwindling, and no way of freeing himself or retrieving his belongings, Crux had begun to resign himself to the situation. If there was no chance of freedom, the most he could do was attempt an escape whenever they reached their destination. All that he could accomplish until then was rest, to regain any sliver of energy possible. That in mind, the silent fury held only by a runic gag and a chain binding was repressed as the sunken-eyed man slowly closed his eyes.

For only a moment, before something collided with the roof of his cage.

His eyes snapped open once more, searching for whatever had made his prison rattle. It was difficult to miss: A falcon had perched upon the bars of his container. Nature itself, come to taunt him at his weakest? No... it was not an ordinary falcon, the way it watched him was uncanny, and the aura surrounding it was a vaguely familiar one.

It wasn't until he witnessed the bird shift its way through the bars that he was certain.

Illyria.

Those eyes only confirmed it. There would be time to ask questions later, for now they needed to act. Crux began to bite down on his gag in an attempt to signal what he needed her aid with. If she could remove the rune-gag, he could gather enough strength to break free.

Illyria
 
The falcon tilted it's head as the pale eyes assessed the gag, hopping up along his bare body and trying to do so gently but it was hard not to scratch at his flesh. Her wings would have made sound, alerting the two men upfront about her intentions. With the sharpened tooth at the end of her beak, she did her best to sever the bonds but was fruitless after a few tries.

She shifted to that of a parrot.

Now her beak was hardened, able to pinch around the material and wear it down to the core of it. Patience and concentration were careful practices as she worked and worked at it, taking a break once due to her unfamiliarity with this form. She tried not to think of the odd sounds her parrot form made as she worked at the gag, his ear so close that she was mindful not to nick it while working.

It was difficult to determine how much time it took before the gag fell loose, Illyria's foot curling around it so it did not fall and make a sound. She lightly jumped from his shoulder to his thigh, then to the flooring of his cage before shifting back to her falcon form. Turning to peer up at him, she tilted her head again, asking that silent question: What now?

Crux
 
Crux wasn't so frail as to be bothered by the pricks of her talons against his skin; he'd undergone far worse and planned to exact punishment tantamount to his humiliation as soon as he was freed. That all depended, of course, on Illyria. She worked diligently at the gag holding in his power, but found little progress until she shifted again into that of a harder-billed avian.

The process of shifting seemed far quicker and quieter than it had been when last they'd met. When she turned from wolf to woman and vice-versa, there had been a telltale cracking of bones and a considerable delay until the change was complete. This was instant, silent, and seemingly painless. What had changed, he paid a second's thought to wonder, to cause her to pursue betterment, when she'd been so content and unmotivated before?

It didn't matter, not right now. If he made it out of this, he'd have time to ask her later. Crux focused his efforts on tilting his head to an angle that made it easy for her to work until finally he felt the rune come loose from his mouth and fall to the ground, barely caught by Illyria's foot. Immediately he felt a surge of power return to him as the anti-magic rune's grip on his reserves ended. It was like waking up from a nap, the difference in his alertness and perception.

It still wouldn't free him of the chains though, not without more energy. The rune had drained him of a considerable amount, and he would need to replenish himself before he could muster that much power. Unfortunately, the only source around was...

"Change back into a woman." Crux mouthed silently. "Carefully." He could have simply drained Illyria of excess magic in her current form, but he was unsure what that would do to a shifter in anything other than their natural state. He wasn't in a position to take those kinds of chances. "Then you need to put your hand on me."

He whispered the last part audibly, and there was a brief rumbling from the driver's seat and a collision against the cage.

"Shut up, back there! We'll be home soon."

Evidently, the moron had forgotten about the gag in the first place.

Illyria
 
If her current form could tolerate the facial expression of a frown, she would have done so at the words his lips formed before letting out an audible instruction. Illyria hesitated a moment after the guard rapped onto the bars and called for quiet, but Illyria did not want to find out where their home was.

A shift to a human form was no breeze in a park.

It had been some time since she was at such a size, but their journey on the road began to reach uneven terrain that rattled loudly and knocked them all around a little. Illyria had to do this bone by bone, timing it well with each hit to the turf and working with several areas at each interval. Shifting took a few minutes, and she could feel the earth beneath them turn out more even and finished the shift to her natural state. She was thinner, bones stretching her skin with every exhale.

To take in several forms of smaller creatures were easy sport, but to this state she had gone weeks without? The pain hit an all time high, evident in her facade breaking and having to hold it all in so not to give her presence away. Her hand shot out and steadied herself above his knee, gripping it so tightly as she endured the pain coursing through her.

The burning always started in her bones, and then her muscles felt stiff after not exercising this form for a long while. Illyria glanced up, loosening her grip slightly.

She could have said something, but was not keen in giving away her presence and opportunity to free the stranger she came across twice now. This would make them even, if she can help him with the next step.

What now? He was at the mercy of her kindness, and she dependent on his next words. Her vision blurred only slightly, Illyria dipping her head to wait for the moment to pass before lifting her head and pinching her brows together. She felt unnatural in this form, too frail and weary. The form of a bird had it's strengths, where the wings could take her on a long journey despite her exhaustion. To be in human flesh again and without the proper nutrients, she was left weak.

"What now?" Illyria repeated in the smallest whisper she could muster.


Crux
 
She'd been spending less time in her natural state, even one so disconnected from her world as Crux could tell. It wasn't his place to judge whether or not that was a positive or a negative, because as long as she was capable of functioning as a human, she would suit his needs well enough. There was a dash of concern that the pair driving the wagon would feel the increase in weight, but Illyria had grown so frail those worries evaporated quickly.

No, there were no thoughts in Crux's mind that didn't involve survival at the moment. Whatever developments had occurred with the Wolf-Bird-Girl could be discussed later, when he wasn't naked and chained up, being hauled off to Gods know where. So long as she didn't expect instant gratitude, this would go smoothly for the both of them.

She reached out, tightly gripping at his knee as she appeared to ride out some sort of agony. Perhaps he'd been wrong about her increased aptitude for transformation, but it didn't matter. In fact, perhaps it was better she was slightly incapacitated with pain, because what came next would likely leave her less than pleased with him, at least until it paid off.

The rune holding his magic at bay now gone, Crux focused on the palm of her hand against his flesh and drew the energy dwelling inside of her out of her fingertips and into his body. Not all of it, of course, just as much as he needed. To Illyria it would feel as though a sudden wave of fatigue had suddenly washed over her body, and she would likely be unable to shift until she rested.

That was fine, they wouldn't need her to shift.

Once he felt as though he'd accumulated enough energy to escape, he jutted his knee to dislodge her hand from it. The skin where she'd been touching was now a charred black, a black that slowly spread both up and down his legs, covering his whole body in seconds. Angry, orange glowing lines seemed to peek through Crux's darkening skin like cracks of magma in an active volcano, and the moment the strange effect reached his hands, he quickly tensed the muscles in his arms, snapping the chains binding him with disturbing ease.

The wagon began to slow as the drivers heard the sounds of breaking chains, and Crux followed suit with those at his ankles, freeing himself completely. By this point, his face had changed to a black just as ashen and eerie as the rest of his body, and his eyes now glowed a simmering orange.

The time to act was now.

With inhuman force, Crux sat up and drove both of his fists up against the roof of the cage, ramming through the metal bars as though they were paper, torn away by his hands as he ripped a hole large enough for his torso to fit through. By the time he'd climbed out of the cage to chest level, the wagon had stopped, and the drivers were turned to face him, woefully unprepared for the iron grip of his hands as he reached out and clutched the cultists by their hoods, driving their faces down into the ripped and jagged metal with a disgusting show of force.

Illyria
 
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Despite the weariness setting into her limbs, falling slowly against the cold metal floor of the cage, Illyria was able to lift her gaze and watch as Crux break his way through topside, climbing out and grabbing the two men out front. Before her eyes, Crux painted the bars with sanguine paint, the faces of the men becoming disfigured with brutality. The scent of blood hit her nose in a strong wave, giving her enough drive to stir and push herself up enough to lean against the bars of the cage. She had felt her strength, what was left of it, leave her being as it gave Crux the touch of magic needed to give him ability to break free from his bonds.

She did not think her frail condition would hinder her so. Living as a bird these past weeks had meant she did not keep a heavier diet, that now in larger forms and her human one would suffer from the lack of meat and weight she would gain. Illyria felt faint, tilting her head up to seek a breath of air, filling her lungs with a weight she could not hold for long.

"You stole my magic." She laughed shakily, closing her eyes to take a momentary rest. "Thief." Still, she could hear the squelching of the flesh of the faceless men. The aroma and sounds filled the silence, bringing a wolfish smile to her lips. It ignited her instinct, that lupine familiarity she had grown accustomed to over the years.

"Leave me their hearts, thief. I might as well catch my strength." Illyria mustered all she could to crawl to the side where their blood and bits of flesh and bone scattered at the bottom of the cage, her teeth elongating to that of a wolf, eyes glowing that predatory yellow.


Crux
 
Crux pried the malformed and bleeding heads of the cultists from the jagged metal he'd impaled them upon and drove them once more into the steel for good measure, holding them in place until he felt no movement, save for the trickle of their blood as it dropped from their fatal wounds down onto the tops of his feet. He'd done them a kindness with such a quick and definitive end; If he'd had his way, he'd have taken his time and pulled every bit of information they had from their mouths before finally giving them the peace of death.

Leaving the pair of unfortunate souls impaled upon the frayed bars of his once-prison, Crux's brief surge of power quickly began to fade, his skin returning rapidly to its normal color, and the bright orange lines that highlighted his veins dimmed and vanished. He had only taken the bare minimum he needed from Illyria, and that small surplus had been exhausted. That was why he'd needed to make the killing of his captors so swift.

"You act as if I stole anything you won't regain." Crux grumbles as he retrieves the keys to the cage from a body and climbs out and around to unlock the door from the outside, leaving the corpses to be her meal and focusing on undoing the small lock on the chest that held his belongings. "Give it a day, you'll feel as though it never happened." Of course, everybody had different bodies, and their was no way of telling how quickly Illyria would recuperate in her already frail state. Delivering a swift blow with one of the broken fragments of the cage that had fallen away, Crux opens the chest, pulls out his personal effects, and dresses himself back in his clothes and armor as Illyria eats.

"I'm only saying it once." He calls to her, as he hilts his whipblade back in its rightful place at his hip. "Thank you for your help, Illyria. That didn't look good for me." Gratitude from Crux was rare, and even this one seemed just a smidge away from forced on his end. "If you must call me anything, call me Crux."

Illyria
 
All she could manage was partial shifting; her form changing only to take on the attributes of a wolf that could tear into the bodies and go for the hearts. The hunger she had been ignoring came rushing back in, controlling her in such a feral attack that Illyria's fair human features were no longer a pretty sight. She was growling, hungered by the scent of blood covering her facade, her earnest feeding encouraged by the cracking of ribs easily breaking with the force of her bite.

She was too lost in feeding her beastly appetite that she barely registered the rare gratitude. His offered name echoed in her mind, slowly retracting her humanity from the animalistic instincts as it played over and over in her mind, and her features returned to that of her natural state before turning to look at Crux.

"Crux..." She sampled the name on her tongue, delightful and tasting of copper, but that was in her opinion fitting of him. After the brutality she had witnessed at their first encounter and now, with the bodies still barely hanging to the bars, the taste of blood was almost synonymous with his name.

"You helped me... it was the will of the fates that ensured I return the favour." She said simply, the back of her hand going to uselessly wipe at her bloodied mouth. Her feeding kicked in her drive, giving her false strength to stand and lithely hop down from the cage.

Illyria went to the front, where the belongings of the now departed men was left unattended. All she needed was a spare change of clothes, and instead she ripped a dark jacket from one of the corpses. It was much too big to fit her frame, but covered her enough to give her warmth.

"No need to say anymore, and I will not be telling the trees of this. I will be on my way now." Their last parting had unnerved her in a way, slowly making her see that she was restless and now content to waste away. She didn't need him to point it out again. Illyria walked past him, offering a small smile before continuing back down the lonely road.

Crux
 
Crux allowed her to feast-- It would be cruel to deny her that, especially when it was her energy that had allowed him to retake his freedom. The visceral sounds of her meal didn't seem to bother as he secured the remainder of his armor, scowling at the new blemishes created by the scuffle that had led to his capture. Of course, the forest-dwelling animal girl would say something attributing their reunion to fate. How typical.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather give you the credit over the fates. They've never helped me before and I don't want them to start now. Much easier to just say you wanted to even us up." Which she had unequivocally done. He'd saved her life, and in hindsight, he now found it quite hard to pretend that she hadn't just saved his own. "Was surprised to see you, though. Last time we talked, you didn't seem to care much about living."

Not that it was any of his business, and he wouldn't pretend to care either way. Still, that she'd chosen life had wound up saving his own, so he supposed he shouldn't be too harsh with her. Turning around once the sounds of tearing flesh ceased, his eyes met the bloodied, but dressed girl as she exited the cage and brushed past him to leave.

That was it? She conducted herself as though this were a mere business transaction, an enhancing of services between the two of them. That wasn't a bad thing; Crux actually somewhat admired the bluntness of saving him and simply leaving.

Unfortunately, this wasn't that simple.

"Don't be in such a rush. I think you're going to want to hear this." Crux sat on the edge of the wagon, wiping at some of the blood on his arms with a cloth as he watched her with one eye. "These guys? They're the ones who let that ghoul loose a few months back. At least, they're working for whoever did it. They grabbed me because I've been tailing them, they've been pulling the same shit all over the place, and I'm not always fast enough to stop people from dying over it."

Illyria
 
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She cursed beneath her shuddering breaths, slowing her pace until she came to a stop. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, hearing him continue on speaking in hopes to make her listen. It certainly had been months since they first met, but she remembered him talking about the infestation that could of happened if that ghoul had feasted on her.

To learn that ghoul being here in the Falwood was intentional didn't sit right with her.

She turned, brows furrowed as Illyria was torn with doing what she wanted to and leave... or stay. He had invited her to, in a way... and she had a cunning he was not the kind to offer this so freely. Illyria took a step towards him, warily. It echoed in her voice, the questioning in those pale jade eyes that now narrowed.

"There are those that wish for such an infestation? That creature was uncontrollable. There are other beings out here in the woods, like the fae. They leave me alone and I leave them be. To have my home in disarray?" Emotion tugged at her, pushing her forward until she stood before him and looked up into his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?" It was written all over her face. Distrust. Had he not treated her so indifferently the last time, and now? Indulging her in information she had no reason to focus on...

But it appealed to her need of maintaining peace in her home. That anyone could cause harm to the tranquility among the wooded expanse?

"Why, Crux?" Her mouth twisted saying his name, as if it were hollow and held no weight.

Crux
 
Crux wasn't certain if it was his revelation that had seemingly shaken her so much, or the fact that he'd so openly shared it with her. True, he'd not been particularly chummy with her the last time their paths had crossed, but she'd cost him a valuable antidote and her attitude had been loathsome.

Even putting aside the fact that she'd saved his life, he would have likely relayed this information to her anyway. This enigmatic group had been responsible for endangering both her and her home, and while Crux could be a coldhearted bastard, he considered that to very much be her business. Of course, that wasn't to say he didn't have some motives of his own...

"Illyria." Her name seemed almost deadpan on his tongue compared to the distrust and frustration that had dripped from her lips, his expression unchanged save for a raised brow. "I have treated you coldly, perhaps. Tell me though, have I ever been unfair to you?" He'd given her the cure for the Dread poison, spoken his mind openly with her beside his campfire, and now laid bare the threat against her home. No, he was a bastard, but he wasn't heartless.

Even though he liked to pretend he was.

"Besides. I'm not telling you because I'm a sweetheart." A coy smirk tugged at his lips as he slid from the wagon, a plan already forming in his head. A lesser man would allow this episode to dissuade him from his mission, to flee from this cult and its followers. Crux had no intention of stopping now... "I want you to help me stop them."

Illyria
 
She stared at him with unsung anger in her eyes, not at all appreciating the cheek he spoke of until his words made his intentions known. He wanted her to assist him? The confusion skewed her expression, until it finally settled to something more akin to doubt.

"I need to rest. Recuperate after you took from me the last of my strength needed to be in this form..." She was bitter, a little, but after crossing her arms and staring up at him a little longer she sighed.

"What gave you the idea I would be any help to you? You are a brutal strength and I am merely a weakened shifter." The both times they had been in each others' company saw Crux put on a display that was not at all gentle. She could stomach it, perhaps even relish in his bloodlust, but she had done minimal to give him thought of thinking of her to accompany him on such a quest.


Crux
 
Crux's expression was the definition of 'unimpressed'.

Illyria had just proven herself beyond capable of helping him with her actions today, and now she had the gall to belittle herself in front of him as though he was something greater. Maybe he was, but the fact remained that he wasn't infallible. That had been demonstrated quite clearly, had it not? No matter how vigilant he was, there was always a margin of error, a chance he could be outsmarted. Crux couldn't afford another incident like this one.

"Yeah, because brute strength alone clearly got me through unscathed this time around." Crux replied dryly, rolling his eyes and pushing onto his feet. Taking his first look back at the mauled corpses she'd left slouched over the broken cage, he grimaced at the viscera: It was a macabre sight even for him. "I don't understand you. You're as useless as a puppy when we first meet. Now you've tuned yourself, found at least some of what you were missing, and you're still going to belittle yourself?"

Crux grumbled and turned his back to her, moving around to the side of the wagon to tug the remains off of the cage and toss them to the ground beneath. This was his ride now, and he didn't need rotting flesh stinking things up.

"Can't believe you're making me say it again, but I wouldn't have gotten out of this if you hadn't helped me. That speaks to your usefulness, after a nap anyways. Besides..." He grunts, tossing the last unrecognizable heap of meat aside. "They tried to ruin your home, your last safe place. They might try to do it again. You're really going to sit back and let me deal with this on your behalf?"

Illyria
 
Her crossed arms remained rigid, her pale jade eyes dropping from his gaze for a second before lifting to watch him deal with the grotesque remains. Her feet lead her forward, rounding to where the two men had once sat before their lives ended. She had never had to help someone before like this, never had to come to the aide of someone struggling. The instinct usually took her the way of ending misery, but Illyria had wanted to repay the kindness of Crux saving her life months ago.

His words were truthful, opening her eyes to the deed she had done for him... but did he have to hold her home in such regard? Defenseless and ready for destruction at any given time?

Illyria was a hunter, a peaceful body in these woods...

But she would wrap her maw around the necks of anyone that dared to desecrate the trees or beings residing here.

"It is not in my nature." She concluded, lifting her chin so her eyes could rise to where Crux stood after disposing the last bloodied corpse. "But if you believe I can be of help, that you think I am indeed capable of the task ahead... then I at least need to see if you are right." Illyria unfurled her arms, hands grasping for the side of the seats to launch herself up onto the wagon. The jacket she had stolen sank off one shoulder, entirely too big on her petite frame, but it had come from the smallest man. It would have to do, until she was able to steal something more suited to her tiny stature.

"Can I ask a favour of you, Crux? Before we are to do anything on this journey... might we stop by my den? I don't have much, but I certainly have trousers that will keep me warm." Her energy was low again, wishing she had not used strength to pull herself up to sit, but she was not going to walk alongside the wagon to wherever it was Crux had in mind to begin with. Clothing that fit a little better on her and the small pouch of coin she kept these past few years would be the only things she required if she were to leave the Falwood for a time.


Crux
 
"Not in my nature, she says..." Crux grumbled as she climbed up into the wagon, closing the cage door with a loud rattle and quickly latching it. She was constantly perplexing him, this Illyria. In his opinion, she had no idea who or what it was she wished to be. "Does a wolf not bare its fangs to protect its den? Does a falcon not protect its nest?"

Perhaps one could call his words manipulative, but Crux never claimed to be pure of heart and innocent of tongue to anybody. Yes, his words were meant to force her hand, but even disregarding that, Illyria should want to protect her home regardless of how he spun things to her. Was he not merely encouraging her to do the right thing? Hoisting himself up onto the seat next to her, he grasped the reins, before looking over at his passenger as she made her request.

"Hardly a favor. I think that'd be best, actually." He nodded, cracking the reins and getting the horses in front of them on the move once again. "Like I said before, you need rest before you'll be of any use again. We can sleep there tonight, and begin our work properly at dawn." Illyria should be back to at least a reasonable level of strength after a night of rest; Crux hadn't taken an extraordinary amount of her energy, after all. "Go ahead and lead me then, where am I headed?"

Crux allowed her to give him directions towards the place she called home. Secretly, he was looking forward to a nap himself-- He was loathe to admit to the woman how exhausted that little display had made him, even with the extra dose of power she'd so generously lent to him. As they drew nearer, Crux watched her from the corner of his eyes.

"Let me tell you something that I learned a long time ago, Illyria..." Crux began, waiting until he was sure she was listening before he continued. "No matter how hard you try to mind your own business and live your own life, eventually somebody is going to try and take it all away from you, even if what you have is nothing. In this world, to survive is to fight back, to kill the snake before the snake can bite you."

He paused, for a moment.

"Were peace ever truly an option, I wouldn't be here. I'd be toiling in an orcish mine, a nameless slave."

Illyria
 
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When they had first met, she would have not believed him to be capable of speaking so many sentences as he did now, but Illyria watched him from the corner of her eyes and listened, eyes flicking to stare straight ahead at the earthy path.

What he spoke of was truth, and that alone was nagging at her thoughts. It was not  her perfect world either until she could make a difference to make it turn that way.

"I think being alone has wounded me in that I have no one else to fight for. Those that dwell in the Falwood I do not owe anything but peace for coexistence." She dropped her gaze to her hands and inspected the blood and dirt caked under her fingernails, that also coated her skin and down her wrists. "I once had a pack of wolves that took me in when I was merely a pup... but once I was old enough, I was left on my own. I was still human in thought..." And never learned what it meant to have something worth losing.

She fled Vel Anir fearing her freedom had been taken away, that her comfortability was now compromised.

Illyria shifted in her seat to look at Crux, a brow raising as she did and posed a question to him. "Have you always worked alone?"


Crux
 
Crux kept his eyes forward as he replied, not seeming entirely thrilled to delve into his history with her. He so rarely mentioned his past by design, as there was nothing there for him to look back on with any amount of fondness. "More or less. Was born a slave to Orcs in the blightlands, so I had owners." He shrugged, as if such an upbringing was far more trivial than it actually was.

Try all he like, he could never escape that origin. It had molded him into who he was, and for better or worse those horrible formative years would always comprise a part of him.

"When I finally got away, I had to rely on myself. Nobody cares about some escaped slave boy caked in tar and smelling of sulfur. It was alone or dead." He did leave some of the details out, of course. The method of his escape, and the resulting trauma it had caused him were every bit as responsible for his life turning out the way it had thus far. She hadn't asked him that, though. She asked if he was alone, and that is all he answered.

Crux brushed some of his unkempt, and now dirtied hair out of his eyes, wiping at some of the dried blood on his skin, a mix of his own from his capture, and that of his captors after he'd caved in their skulls. Perhaps there was a river near her den, somewhere he could at the very least rinse himself off.

"You? Raised by wolves?" The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "I would have never guessed..."

Illyria
 
The hint of humour was enough for Illyria to chuckle to fill the lingering silence as she wrapped her head around the idea of his childhood as a slave. It was a sobering thought, and one she could not begin to imagine. So what was the right way of asking this? Should she continue her curious questions? Neither of them owed each other the rundown of their lives... but they felt kindred spirits that first time. At least, that was what she believed.

"Did you kill a snake before it bit you? Is that how you came to be doing what you do now?" It was nice, this casual conversation. She had barely had anyone to converse with since... the last time she had seen Crux. She had not wanted to be in her own head, nor face the brutality that came with being a wolf. A falcon was a welcomed change, but even then it did not provide a proper and enriching diet. Even through her exhaustion, Illyria felt at ease now they were traveling onward, closer and closer to her den. "I do not mean to be nosy... You do not need to answer, you know?"

Illyria let her words hang in the peaceful quiet, not even turning to look at him as her pale eyes watched the path, waiting for the moment she could direct him to the off track path to her den. She would shift in her seat, now attentive and careful to give him warning of when to veer left and towards the little oasis she had created.

"Over there, by the evergreen." She pointed. Veering left would take them a little ways from the main path, where the trees were spread just enough to fit the wagon through before Illyria told him to come to a halt, the forest floor overrun with roots and vines that would only snag onto the wheels. "We can leave the wagon here. If the horses need water, there is a catchment a little over that way, past the den. I can hear the stream from here." To her ears, the current was strong and loud, disrupting the tranquility in this part of her home.

Stifling a tired yawn into her shoulder, Illyria swiveled in her seat and gently let herself down to the uneven forest floor. She had ran this terrain for most of her life, comfortable in navigating over it and beckoning Crux to follow. Illyria was desperate for sleep, for a decent feed once they made it to a town. For now, she had nuts and dried fruit to tide her over, perhaps even a hunt if Crux wanted a meal also.


Crux
 
Crux's features tightened again at her question, the small gap he'd allowed to show in his defenses closing once more as she prodded just a bit farther into his past. His hands tightened on the reins and his tongue made a small bulge in his cheek.

She was right; he did not need to answer. Even so, she hadn't asked specifics. In the vaguest of terms, he replied, "No. After being bitten every day for my entire life, I killed every snake that had ever tasted my flesh."

He pulled the wagon up partway to the evergreen until the tangled roots blocked his path, bringing it to rest just off of the path and leaning back in his seat to take a quick survey of the den. It wasn't exactly a cozy home, but for one such as Illyria, who'd grown accustomed to living in the wild, he understood why she'd chosen it. Sliding from his seat, he stepped forward, though not explicitly following Illyria's lead.

"Before anything else, I need to bathe. I loathe the smell of dried blood." Crux did seem rather annoyed at the hardened stains on his hands and arms, fighting the urge to itch at the remnants of those who'd driven the wagon before him. "You should probably do the same. Your face is still a bit of a mess from your meal, and we can't go into any town with you looking like that."

Luckily, the stream was just as easy to hear as Illyria asserted, and it was sufficiently wide and just deep enough for him to wash in. He'd head there first, already tugging at the bands of his armor. He thought nothing of Illyria, whether she chose to follow suit or not: He'd seen the woman bare of clothing before, and she didn't seem the type to think much of nudity. Crux was much the same.

Illyria
 
She supposed he was right, as her hand went to her chin and felt the caked blood that dried there, trickled down her throat and her front. Her dark brow rose, walking beside him as they headed to the stream. It sounded like a stronger current today, perhaps it had rained upstream or some snow melting.

They came upon it soon enough, and Illyria was bare with a simple removing of the jacket that kept her warm. The water was not kind, stinging her skin with it's icy temperature and causing her teeth to chatter upon entering the stream. She waded until it reached her hips, hands rubbing her arms as she braved the cold and plunged herself in.

She could not control how cold she felt, doing her best to wash her face, neck, and chest from the blood. Even her hands grew numb before she could make any progress.

"Throw me the jacket." She asked Crux through chattering teeth. It would give a better attempt at washing her skin from the blood than what she could do with cold hands.

At least in her den, she had furs and other warm attire to wear. What would take minutes for her to clean, it felt as if her desire to be warm again was unobtainable.

Crux
 
For Crux's part, the cold bite of the stream's waters seemed to have little effect on him, and he needed the cleansing perhaps far more than Illyria did; even the valleys in between the well-defined muscles of his abdomen were caked with blood, and grime, leading him to wonder how long he'd been being tossed about and beaten by his captors before his shifting companion had come to his rescue.

"Tch... whatever they planned to do with me, they certainly didn't care about my hygiene." Crux groaned as he wiped at the layers of dried sweat on his hardened flesh. He'd brought along a cloth to aid in his cleaning, and at Illyria's request for the jacket, Crux instead paid her a passing glance before wading to the edge of the brook and lifting his body out enough to reach his pack, retrieving a spare and tossing it to her. "That'll work better, You can pay me back for that later."

His way of gifting it to her, knowing full well she didn't deal with currency.

It took longer than he would have liked, but eventually, he was clean enough to be satisfied. Pulling himself back out of the water, he gathered his clothes and armor and tucked them under his arms. He certainly wasn't about to soak them by wearing them so soon after bathing.

"Do you have somewhere I can sleep, then? I only need a few hours..."
 
Illyria was clean, at least where she could see. She had thought it had only been the blood that made her dirty, but she would require a hot bath to get herself looking almost human again. Her wild hair clung to her form, in need of a brush and cut, but the woman didn't tend to visit the nearest town as often.

Walking out from the cold waters, Illyria held the cloth Crux had given her to use and wrung it out. She abandoned the jacket she had stolen, it too covered in just as much blood that she had on her person. "I... have furs that can lay on the dirt, if that is no problem." She used to have a small cot, but there had been a time the loneliness had gotten to her and all she could do was unleash her animalistic rage. That meant cutting up her sleeping arrangements, and could not bother to replace it with a new one. What if she raged again?

"You can take the space first. I might... go hunt something while you sleep." She was in no condition to do such a thing, but her den was small. Illyria walked past him and lead him towards it, slowing so that she could get onto her knees and crawl into the larger entrance and into the space that was hidden beneath a large root from the tree above. Underground was preferable to Illyria, enjoying the tranquility of nothing making a sound. It was peaceful, and it was maddening at other times.

The den had been dug out to resemble a simple room, with four 'walls'. It was a long area from the entrance, with woden trunks and boxes taking up the corners either side of the her as she pulled herself through. Opposite from her, directly in front of her, was a small chest of drawers with her clothing. She could barely stand in this room, her head just brushing the 'ceiling' as she kneeled before the drawers that acted as the head of her 'bed'. Furs rubbed at her dirtied legs from the crawl, but soon enough, she retrieved a shift dress and pulled it over her frame.

Illyria turned to see where Crux had followed, raising an amused brow at him.

"Cosy, isn't it?"


Crux
 
Crux poked his head into the cramped den, not entirely thrilled with squeezing himself into such a narrow passageway without any clothes on. Thankfully, any jagged rock of the cave walls spared his more sensitive spots. Still, despite the tight confines of Illyria's living space, he had to silently admire the ingenuity; he didn't know of many threatening creatures that would find her here, and even if they did poke into the gap underneath the tree root, they would have to look up to see the tunnel into the sleeping area.

"It's better than outside." Crux gave her that much, hoisting himself up into the snug room, keeping to his knees, as it was about as much as he could manage without bending forward. There was a spot where the ground seemed a bit dryer than the rest of the cave, and Crux wondered if perhaps she hadn't had more furnishing than just a drawer at one point. "I wouldn't worry about the furs though. I've slept on the ground plenty of times before."

Even the floor of Illyria's den was preferable to being tied up in the back of that damned wagon. Crux paid the Wolf-Girl no mind as she dressed herself, having hung his own clothes outside on a branch to dry, and laid on his back, with his hands joined at his midsection. He almost looked like a corpse in a coffin, were he not breathing and tan-skinned. Yes, this would work for a night. Usually, he'd have no problem sleeping outside, under a shady tree. As weak as he still was though, it was a vulnerability he couldn't risk.

Crux allowed his eyes to slide shut, and his body to slacken against the floor of the den. Just a few hours, that should be enough to rid him of this depleted sensation, that damned rune having sucked so much of his energy away like a leech. After a moment, he feels Illyria climbing over him to leave, and slides open one eye, a positively unamused expression falling onto his face.

"You were serious?" The ghost of a smirk played on his lips as he realized that the wilderness-living wolf girl, of all people, was being shy. "I took a fair chunk of power from you, wolf-girl. You're not going back out there." Reaching up with one hand, Crux grips her by the dress she'd donned and holds her back. "I'm not going through all this just for you to get killed on me. Lie down."

He wasn't asking.

Illyria
 
Illyria debated whether or not she should tug against his grip and risk the shift dress ripping. She had not attachment to her belongings she currently had, only able to afford the cheapest and oldest things people had thrown away.

But what was a dress in comparison to the grip of his hand, the command in his voice? Her face was away from him, hiding the briefest of annoyances crossing her void expression before taking a slow inhale, exhaling as she gruffly fell and rolled to her back.

Pale jade eyes stared up at the packed dirt that served as her ceiling.

"I need to eat." She all but grumbled softly. Illyria shuffled, ensuring there was a gap between them as much as she could create in the small space, yet her smaller frame had no trouble finding a comfortable position beside Crux's taller and larger build. "A hungry wolf is not great company."

Her body was glad for the final rest. Exhaustion weighed her, and Illyria was not going to agree with Crux's decision of keeping her here. A betrayal to her will, a yawn forced it's way from her. The way she did it was like a canine, another characteristic she had not been able to shake in her human form.


Crux
 
"Neither is a dead one. All things considered, hunger isn't quite so permanent." Came his retort, speaking up at the roof of the small den as his hands returned to their place atop his stomach. There wasn't much room to move around with both of them lying there together, but Crux had no trouble sleeping in cramped situations. "I'll have some food for you when you wake, probably. I don't sleep long." A few hours at most, just enough to regain his strength.

He made it sound like he wanted her alive out of obligation, but it would be deceitful to say he hadn't grown somewhat fond of the strange woman. As loathe as he was to admit it to himself, there were some ways in which they were kindred. Both had been isolated and hidden away from normalcy and reason, both chose not to rely on others when they could live by their own strength, and both of them wielded powers that made them aberrant and ostracized by their people.

Illyria was, perhaps, the closest thing Crux had to a true companion in quite some time. If she were to die in his company, it would not be over something so trivial as a hunt. "Now sleep. We have a lot of work to do, and there's no guarantee we'll have the luxury of a ceiling over our head when next we rest." As Crux spoke his eyes began to slide shut slowly, the rise and fall of his chest slowing as he allowed himself to fall behind the veil of unconsciousness.

It was uncomfortable, and the air in the den was stagnant and stale. A biting wind blew up from the opening leading into their safe haven, nipping coldly at his skin and threatening to make him shiver.

And yet... the warmth of the woman at his side was a small comfort. It allowed him to think of a warm tavern bed, with a bellyful of ale and a buxom whore at his side for the night. Certainly, he had no problem sleeping then, and with this image in his mind, though ever conscious he was experiencing no such bliss, he dozed.

Illyria
 
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