sleeping weasels 𓇬 18+ 𓇬 1x1

[oakfather preserve u]

⊱༒︎━━━━ : ̗̀ Julien Vaughan || Male || 37 || Human || Oar's Rest || Tag: x : ̗̀⁍ ━━━༒︎⊰

As he mounts his horse, he ensures that the shovel is once again secure in the saddle straps, giving Emrys a nice pat on the neck before heading northeast. This time he doesn't follow the path, instead cutting through the shallow stream that separates the Ozryn District and Pella's Wish. He rode slowly out of Amesquite as to not cause too much noise or suspicion, only slightly picking up the pace into a canter as he enters the Appleten fields, again not wanting to be found out. The night is quiet, the whispers of deer and the occasional cry of a screech owl travelling through the great plains.

'Softly now, Emrys.' Julien gently warns, his eyes remain focused on his surroundings as the two venture forth. He notices the tack and equipment making more sound than he'd prefer, and so he pulls the reins to slow down before bending down sideways to untie the shovel. As he straightens his back out, he stretches his neck left and right, the stress that had been bubbling deep within starting to leak through his bold composure in the form of his tightening muscles.

He takes a moment to compose himself, closing his eyes, breathing in the cold air as he places the shovel across his thighs, resting his hands atop the rusty metal handle. 'Don't lose your head now, Julien.' He thinks to himself, opening his eyes again to see the beautifully moonlit grass around him. Suddenly he can see his surroundings, he had come back out of his mind. Was he so afraid of disappointment? Something he had never even experienced before? Emrys snorts as he senses his riders changing energy. Looking forward, the dark Adavine forest stares back at him, so dense and impenetrable, the icy mountains reside unseen behind it.

[undead persuasion]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⊱༒︎ Adelaide J Bortel || Female || 23 || Human || Amesquite || Tag: x ༒︎⊰┈┈┈┈

As soon as Julien rides away, Adelaide quickly hurries over to examine the ground where he had just been prodding. She spots metal scrapes etched into the rocky surface. He was trying to bury something... She concludes, a frown creasing her brow. In an instant, she makes a reckless decision. She dashes down the street towards the stable, disregarding how frantic she must look as she weaves through the crowd. She pushes past pedestrians, ignoring their gruff protests and indignant shouts.

Adelaide finally reaches the stable, rounding the corner at full speed and gasping for breath. Pushing her hair away from her face, she calls softly, "Muse?" A gentle whinny replies from the back of the stable. With quiet determination, she opens the stable pen door and greets her horse with a reassuring pat on the neck. "Hello." She carefully slides the saddle onto Muse’s back and hoists herself up.

Guiding Muse to the spot where she last saw Julien, she relies on her rudimentary tracking skills to follow his faint trail. After some effort, she manages to trace his steps to the river that separates Amesquite from Pella's Wish. Frustration wells up within her as she sighs. She’s not the outdoorsy type, and doubts flood her mind. What was she thinking? What if she finds him? Then what? It's dark. It's late. She has no idea how to actually track someone. She scrunches her eyes shut, exhaling sharply through her nose.

Muse neighs restlessly, sensing her hesitation. "Yes, yes, I know. Just give me a moment to think." Adelaide grumbles, rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hand.

She takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. If she were to bury something, the expansive Appleton Fields might seem like a sensible choice. Resolute, she nudges Muse into motion, heading in that direction.

[oakfather preserve u]

⊱༒︎━━━━ : ̗̀ Julien Vaughan || Male || 37 || Human || Adavine Forest || Tag: x : ̗̀⁍ ━━━༒︎⊰

Amidst the glooming depths of the Adavine Forest, the ground is soft and damp. Julien feels shrouded in the sticky air as he and Emrys travel further in, sticking to the small stream that separates the Bellenau Marshes. Dangerously close to the notoriously dangerous Fort Briar camp, Julien ensures that they travel quietly as the Briar gang often follows a 'shoot on sight' rule.

The pair stop a few paces from the centre of the Adavine Forest, moving slightly east, away from the stream. It would not be wise to bury something near water where it could so easily be flushed away or revealed by the ever-changing earth. Julien dismounts, shovel in hand, the ground squelching from the impact. Wasting no time, he digs a tall hole, substantial but small enough to remain obscured among the dark environment.

Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead, squeezing through his gambler hat and travelling down his tall nose. Thrusting the shovel into the ground to stand on its own, he turns to Emrys who stands beside him to detach the burlap sack that hangs on his saddle. Pulling it open, Julien finally disposes of the bones. All in quick succession, he reattaches the sack to the saddle, this time folded and tied up in a way that it wouldn't bother Emrys any longer. He takes to the filled hole in the ground, covering it back up with the piece of dirt he carefully removed to ensure that it still had grass atop.

With his feet he puts pressure on the filled hole, his nerves beginning to calm as it withstands his weight. Julien takes a moment to collect himself, his heart pounding in the last few seconds, indiscernible to the outsider perspective. The giant removes his hat by the crown, holding it on his heart. He closes his eyes and pushes his hair up and away from his forehead for just a moment, feet positioning themselves for comfort. Regulating his breath in the cold damp air, he faces upwards and begins to pray to whatever gods may look down on him at this very moment. He prays that the poor soul he had just buried may live a life free from injustice and pain in his next, apologising for the steps he had to take. He had to. He mustn't betray his family. He had no ill will towards his parents, yet, something bubbles deep within.

Julien continues his prayers. In the past, it was simply a self-developed ritual to soothe the spirits that may now lay to rest, however now it appeared to soothe Julien himself.

[undead persuasion]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⊱༒︎ Adelaide J Bortel || Female || 23 || Human || Adavine Forest || Tag: x ༒︎⊰┈┈┈┈

Adelaide urges Muse forward, the horse’s hooves softly thudding against the dirt. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the vast expanse of Appleten fields, where waves of grass sway in the breeze. Out from the corner of her eye, shadows lurk, drawing her attention to the foreboding outline of Adavine Forest. She pulls Muse to a stop, staring at the dark treeline of the forest. She feels an undeniable compulsion drawing her into the pitch black expanse of trees. It makes sense, doesn't it? She thinks to herself. Easier to hide in there. More dangerous, but high risk, high reward. And what is Julien but a man of nature?

"Come on, girl. This way." She whispers to Muse as she guides the horse towards Adavine Forest. Muse huffs in mild protest but complies anyway. The horse’s hooves crunch softly on fallen leaves as they cross the threshold into the gloom.

As they trot further in, the world outside the forest fades away. Gone are the open grasslands of Appleton; the air inside the forest is heavy with the scent of petrichor and fragrant pine, a canopy of branches intertwine above them, filtering the moonlight into ghostly patterns that dance upon the forest floor. Sounds shift, too; the melodic whispers of the wind gave way to the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures.

Adelaide scans the forest for any sign of movement, her eyes straining in the dark. She sighs, slipping off Muse. "Stay here, Muse. I'll be back." She whispers quietly, patting Muse on the side of her cheek. Muse snorts a little and takes to grazing.

Adelaide trudges forward. She focuses intently on remaining silent, her heart thrumming loudly in her chest, urging her onward despite the absurdity of her situation. What a spectacle she must be, stumbling through the inky night, a clumsy figure swallowed by the shadows. All those feelings subside when finally, after what felt like an eternity of straining against the dark, she catches sight of him—a figure moving with a quiet intensity lit only by dappled moonlight. Julien, a distance ahead, stands silhouetted against the backdrop of the dense foliage. He seems to be digging again. She instinctively ducks behind the trunk of a nearby tree, the rough bark scraping against her palm in a sharp reminder of her surroundings. In that moment, she feels a familiar sting, the earlier wound on her finger now reopened and oozing crimson droplets.

She bites her lip to stifle a curse, bringing her hand to her mouth to suckle at the blood, the metallic taste flooding her mouth. She doesn't dare take her gaze off Julien; completely fixated on him, watching his actions with calculating eyes. What in the hells is he doing? She frowns.

The thought is abruptly cut off by a sharp rustling behind her. Adelaide spins around, her heart racing as her eyes dart through the dark, searching for the source. She nearly calls out but stops short when she spotted a shadowy figure flitting between the trees, moving with unsettling speed.

Panic surges within her, and she crouches down, covering her mouth with a trembling hand to silence her breath. The air feels thick with tension. Whatever it is, it's closing in, weaving through the underbrush, drawing nearer with every passing second. Adelaide's breath quickens—she's frozen in place, caught in a web of terror. Just as she finally wills her legs to unlock and move she's tackled to the ground. Her head hits the icy ground with a sickening thunk. The figure on top of her is a feral, twisted looking thing. She struggles against it. Its gaunt frame is inhumanely strong, draped in matted fur and leaves, a remnant of its centuries-long existence among the wild. With pointed ears and sharp fangs that glint in the dim light it snarls at her, more beast than man, drawn insatiably to the intoxicating scent of blood that seeps from her finger. With an outstretched claw, it pins Adelaide to the ground, slapping a gnarled hand over her mouth in a grotesque fusion of human cunning and animal ferocity. The once-human visage is twisted into a mask of raw hunger.

Adelaide wrestles with the creature, her panic turning each movement into a frantic flail. Finally, she manages to fish out her scissors and, with a desperate thrust, drives them into it. The creature howls in agony but lunges forward, biting into her neck. She screams as she feels herself fade quickly, warmth fading into cold darkness. In a last ditch effort, she twists her scissors more. The creature twitches but it's too late; her vision dims as she gazes up at the serene moonlit canopy, untouched by the chaos.

The moon is beautiful tonight. She thinks.

She feels cold.

So cold.

Crimson blooms around her.

And nothing.

[oakfather preserve u]

⊱༒︎━━━━ : ̗̀ Julien Vaughan || Male || 37 || Human || Adavine Forest - Knife's Edge || Tag: x : ̗̀⁍ ━━━༒︎⊰

Julien's eyes blink open to the sound of rustling and primal yowls, his head remaining in position while his gaze darts down to the side as his mind attempts to make sense of the noise. A soul splintering scream. He spins around, hat still on his heart, he shrinks his presence. His head lowers as his ears perk up. The haunting melodies of birds, insects and the occasional predator, now completely silent. Alarmingly silent, Julien could hear his own blood run cold. His hand slowly reaches for Emrys' large snout, giving him a soft pat before turning his head to face him. The Kladruber's ears twitch in panic, his body remaining stationary. Julien frees his index from the grasp of his hat to press against his lips, pursing them but making no sound.

'Shh..' He mouths. He hangs his hat on the horn of the saddle, giving Emrys a rub on the neck as he turns back round to face the direction of where the scream travelled from. Looking southwards, he sees the delicate flickering of orange light dance behind the thick foliage. Julien moves out from the piece of shrubbery so conveniently concealing his presence to get a better look, Emrys so quietly following behind. A patrol unit. Dispatched from Fort Briar no doubt. Julien estimates a fifteen to twenty metre distance between him and them. A unit of five. Two on horseback, three on foot. Upon closer inspection, he notices them examining something on the ground - or rather, someone. A small frame it seems, a woman, judging from the blood curdling scream he had heard just moments ago. Julien creeps closer, sticking to the bushes. As he gets closer, the image becomes clearer. The tousled dirty blonde hair highlighted by the warm lantern flames.

The Bortel girl.

His eyes widen in shock, eyebrows louring over in a concoction of confusion, sorrow, and outrage. What was she doing here? What was she doing to end up under the glares of Briar men.. dead? Julien is under the impression that these men took the initiative to decide for her that it was her time to go.

The night seemed to darken, speckles of moonlight glowing from the contrast. The cold winds pick up, as though the souls of the afterlife were welcoming another, a gust so vigorous as if a warning from the gods above. A ghostly veil begins to blanket the marshes as the wind settles, the fog sitting eerily still.

Sweat begins to bead and trickle down the nape of Julien's neck. Suddenly, a strikingly sharp sting shoots up his spine, but, he feels no pain. He almost feels a new sense of vigour flowing within him, his vision tunnelling on the men before him.

Twenty paces. Vaughan moves closer, quietly sifting through the thick shrubbery, his stature seeming to grow as it did back in the Bortel convenience. Emrys snorts quietly, discerning a level of threat that is to come and so remaining in place as Vaughan continues forward.

Ten paces. His head turns right as he gets closer, still tucked down to remain hidden, his feet dragging to avoid the squelch of the muddy ground. The initial shock and sorrow had gone from him, his eyes glowing with a quiet rage.

Five paces. Positioned directly behind them, Vaughan stands up straight, rolling his shoulders back with his arms slightly bent to his sides; hands open, fingers twitching to draw his weapons. All the while the Briar men continue examining the corpse of Adelaide Bortel, their focus shifting back and forth from the body and the boundless lengths of the Adavine forest. They seem apprehensive, startled by the carnage under them, their movement beginning to quiver as they assess their surroundings; completely oblivious to the beast behind them.

Vaughan steps out from obscurity, his head tilted in a deranged manner. His eyes dart to Adelaide for a moment, her body partially cloaked under the shadows of the tall pine trees. Through the gaps of the Briar men, Vaughan could see her clearly now. Her body splayed in the mud now melding with the crimson fluid flowing down the folds and fabrics of her dress. The warm lantern lights cast an orange film over her lifeless eyes. The sight of it all intensifies the utter rage that's been accumulating in this body, in his veins. His head dips down, staring at the men through his eyebrows with an unsettlingly baleful gaze. Vaughan draws his double-actions, cocking the hammer in quick succession. The injustice in front leaves him without patience nor restraint, but the piece of Julien residing within in this moment prohibits him from killing them dishonourably; from behind and without warning.

He smiles.. content with the mere idea that there would be five less Fort Briar swine in the world. A sharp whistle flits through his lips, the Briar men whipping their heads around immediately. Alarmed, they race to point their rifles at Vaughan, however, explosive rounds enter their skulls before they could even clumsily attempt to reach for the trigger. The horses rear and neigh in fear, taking off in separate directions as bodies thump and guns rattle onto the ground, the blast echoing throughout the forest. Vaughan is frozen in place, his arms still straightened, revolvers pointed into the pine abyss. His eyes dissociate, glazing over as the short lived rampages subsides. Julien blinks rapidly, completely aware of what he had done yet feeling as though his consciousness wasn't all there. He holsters his revolvers as he steadily comes to, enamoured by the speed of which he drew his weapons. Julien has always been quite the formidable gunslinger, though he's never been this quick.

'Forget all that.', Julien had more important matters to tend to, for a dead girl laid in front of him. A girl whom he had just interacted with in the morn. He couldn't just leave her there as alligator food, and her physical condition so devastating he wouldn't be able to bring her back to the Bortels. He crouched down beside her, left elbow resting on his thigh, his right hand in a fist resting on his hip.

"I'm very.. very sorry, Miss Bortel." He whispers, softly running his hand over her eyelids to shut them before gently sliding his hands under her back and legs, lifting her up from the mud. A pair of scissors fall into the sludge, only making itself known from an incredible lustre that shimmered as it caught the moonlight on it's way down. He whistles for Emrys, who for a moment hesitates to heed to his call due to the sudden change in his rider, but much like Julien, the steed's loyalty is virtually unwavering. Adelaide's body was so small in comparison to Julien that he was able to move her over his shoulders with ease, holding onto her by the arm, freeing a hand to pick up the scissors; which upon closer inspection must belong to Adelaide. He sheathes it into his satchel for the time being. Emrys emerges from the foliage, snorting as he gains sight of Adelaide's body; He's always enjoyed her presence when he accompanied Julien on deliveries.

Julien mounts his horse one handed, still holding onto Adelaide. It didn't feel right to load her onto the flank as he would any other body, she didn't deserve to be treated as such. He's always liked her, even if they didn't exchange too many words over the years. He readjusts, her body sitting in front of him bridal style, Julien's expansive arms hugging her tightly. The cold chill at his nape never subsided, now instead of a fit of rage, the nippy sensation fuels the inner guilt he feels.

'I could have been faster.

What could have possibly compelled sheltered miss Bortel to come here?

She was so young.

To suffer a death such as this.'

His embrace tightens as if he were trying to share his life force with her.

For a man who's had a lifetime of experience in a business surrounding death, he's developed a sense of empathy that his parents never could - though he's aware of how pathetic he's being at this very moment. Time's a-wasting. It won't be long until the Fort Briar gang sends another patrol out in response to the blaring shots. He takes just a moment, browsing through the rolodex in his mind of decent burial spots. His gaze takes to the south, the Dry Gulch peaking out as the white veil begins to recede and the tunes of the forest return. Risky, but at least she'll never be found. With his mind made up, he gives Emrys a squeeze with his thighs and begins to travel towards the icy mountains, Adelaide firmly in his clasp.

Icy winds prickle the skin, Emrys treads forward pushing against the bitter gale, plunging his legs into the thick powdery snow. Julien tilts his head down, placing his full trust in his steed to lead the way, shielding his face from the blizzard under the brim of his hat. Adelaide, her expression.. at peace with a hint of worry. As they trudge on, what looks like a small cave entrance catches Julien's eyes. Hidden on a lower ground level than where they were. He signals to go right by lightly tugging on the reins. The frigid temperature dulls the persistent sharp sensation behind his neck.

As they arrive at the edge of the icy cliff, Julien assesses the surroundings, looking for a way down to the cave to shelter from the storm. A thin sliver of a path is carved from the side of the mountain, risky but not entirely impossible to travel through. Julien sighs, preparing himself, for one small misstep would lead to a four thousand metre plummet into glacial waters and rough terrain. Swinging his right leg over, he dismounts into the snow. Adelaide in arm, he readjusts her once again into the fireman hold, left hand free. He takes the reins back over Emrys' head and begins to lead him towards the path. Emrys squeals in a panic as he catches sight of what is bound to come, hooves pattering as they get closer.

"We'll die out here, boy. C'mon." Julien says, attempting to amplify his speech through the thick storm. Emrys protests for a second, but he too is starting to feel the sting of the weather. The pair duck their heads down as they begin to take the path down towards the cave, Emrys almost having to walk one hoof in front of the other. He lets go of the reins in order to stand in front of his steed, to allow himself every bit of leverage he could get. Small bits of mountain rock chip away as they continue forward. Julien holds onto the side of the mountain, sticking as close as he could without scratching Adelaide's body, her hair blowing with the breeze. "Careful here, boy!" He yells out, as the path curves down. "Almost there."

Emrys struggles a little with the curvature of the path, neighing in fear as his hooves begin to slip. Julien whips his head around, unable to do anything. If he turned he would risk his own safety. As Emrys attempts to steady himself, the ground crumbles as if on the verge of collapsing. "Emrys!" Julien cries out, mouth agape, his gaze wide and dead set on his horse, , praying to the gods that nothing happens to him. Moving slightly forward, the steed finds a steady hold, forcing his head as close to the wall as he possibly can to reject gravity from taking him. Thick fog escaping from his nose as he pants heavily in disbelief, his neck completely lowered in shock. Julien's eyes shut in relief, steadying his breath. "Come on, better not spend more time here than we need to." He says, ensuring Emrys continues on before continuing himself. Their pace quickening as they arrive at their destination.

As soon as Julien steps off the passage, he spins around to reach for Emrys' reins, guiding him for the last few steps. The snow piles thinner down here, moderately sheltered from the harsh winds. The gelding snorts in relief, shaking his head to free his body from the pent up stress. The winds howl louder down here as it travels through the jagged surfaces, yet simultaneously quieter and softer. "You did good.. you did good." Julien commends his steed, patting his muzzle as a soft smile appears on his face despite what had just happened. They both pant from the physically and mentally taxing trek. He looks to the cave entry, unable to distinguish anything inside at all. He moves closer before gently putting Adelaide down against the mountain wall beside the entrance. 'This'll do.' He thinks to himself, fists on his hips as he stretches out his torso. He looks at the state of the ground beneath him, grinding his boot against the snowy dirt to determine if it was possible to dig a grave for Adelaide.

His eyes close, gritting his teeth, realising he had left his shovel in the Adavine Forest. No matter. He looks at Adelaide's now desolate hull, sighing in grievance. Taking a few steps to the left, he removes his thick black gloves from his satchel, dropping to his knees as he begins to dig through the snow; shovelling heaps at a time. The moisture creeps into the thickness of his gloves as he continues, his fingers beginning to feel cold stabs of pain. Despite it all, he continues. The blizzard intensifies, the scale of it stretching down to the cave entry. The winds begin to shriek through the canyon, Julien's speed quickening. His hands begin to quiver as he musters down the growingly excruciating agony, having to put more pressure on his fingers as he reaches dirt. Emrys walks over, beginning to dig his front hooves into the snow. Julien chuckles, his breath shaking in pain. His fingertips had began to bleed as his gloves freeze up, the fabric hardening, barbed with countless tiny spikes of ice. Julien couldn't risk stopping, not even for a second. If he were to take a break, it would prove difficult to carry on through the pain.

A grave had been dug, Julien's senses so dull yet intense. His ears ring from the wail of the storm, while his fingers burn from the biting chill. He pulls his gloves off, throwing them to the floor, immediately dropping to his forearms, his hands violently trembling. The pain so intense he struggles to breathe. Julien bellows in distress, examining the condition of his raw fingertips. His limbs so cold, blood struggles to run. He stomachs the sensation, roaring under his breath as he gets up to bury Adelaide. "Go inside, Emrys." He instructs his horse, for he could do nothing to help now and they had been out in the cold for a dangerous amount of time. His steed whinnies with worry, but obeys. He squeezes through the entrance, just about fitting. Julien picks Adelaide up, one hand on her back, one behind her knees, trying his best to ignore the textures brushing against his fingers. He gently places her down, looking at her one last time. Her skin had turned blue, snow bedded on every dark blonde strand, her eyelashes icy. His body shivers violently as he removes his hat and holds it against his chest. Julien says a prayer, pleading to the gods for a safe guidance of her soul.

He uses his feet to push the snow and dirt he had dug up, on top of her, finally laying her body to rest. He painstakingly opens his satchel, retrieving the ornamental scissors. He digs the blades into the front of the mount, right above where her head would be, as a grave stone. He could feel his body beginning to surrender, and so running into the cave despite the darkness, picking his gloves up on the way. Unable to see, he runs into Emrys' side, the horse squealing in shock. "S-s-s-sorry, boy" He struggles to get his words out. Knowing his steed is by his side, he needn't light to know where he was. He falls to the ground in exhaustion, throwing his gloves to the side. The adrenaline running through his body numbs the pain ever so slightly. He reaches towards his belt, trying to feel for the lighter that hangs there, hoping that it works. 'Please.. please.. please... please....' He begs in a whisper, flicking the lid open and clicking the wheel, hoping for a spark to light.

After a few tries, his wishes come to fruition. The cave lights a soft flickering orange, the walls sharp in some areas, smooth in others. A sizeable cavity expanding approximately eight paces further than where Julien sat. Luckily, nothing resided inside; suppose the terrain is too harsh for anything or anyone to think to traverse through. He floats his free hand over the small flame, attempting to warm himself up - doing the same with the other hand. After a minute or two, the adrenaline dies down, the pain in his fingers unbearable once again. Emrys slowly gets down, inviting Julien to rest on him. Julien shuffles closer, lighter still in hand. He leans his back on Emrys, knee to chest to preserve whatever is left of his body heat.

His body struggles to retain any heat, Julien beginning to rock back and forth in discomfort. The sting at the nape of his neck returns, his head cocking back at the shocking twinge. However, this time, it's nauseating. Julien breaks out in a cold sweat, falling forward at the overwhelming discomfort. His hands slam onto the ground, catching himself, flinging his lighter across the floor. His fingers attempt to grip onto the flat surface, wine red draining, painting the smooth cave. His hat falls forward, a part of it kissing the bleed. Julien's breath quickens, eyes widening in shock and horror. The sting repeatedly travels from his tailbone to the nape, like a blade tracing the length of his spine. Emrys gets up, confused and afraid, scurrying to the inner end of the cave. What was happening to his rider? There was nothing he could do but watch and wait.

Julien begins to dry-heave, his chest violently convulsing. He drops his head to the ground, his hands wrapping around and pulling inwards in an attempt to stifle the agonising pain. He moans in pain as the sensation intensifies, the 'blade' digging deeper into his flesh. He begins to shed tears between wails. A complex amalgamation of sorrow, anger, guilt, uncertainty, and pain struggle for dominance in his head, his entire body suffering the physical consequences.

His pain exacerbates further, and further, and further.

In an excruciating state, he smashes his head into the ground, banging his fists against the stone floors until an audible crunch is heard. His wails deepen and intensify, losing vision as his mind begins to numb. His entire body begins to burn. He rushes to remove his vest and shirt, tossing them behind him. His body is enveloped in a thick glossy coat, sweat dripping from his chin, his skin flushing in a deep scarlet shade. He feels an acute pressure building in his jaws, as if his teeth were on the verge of exploding. The walls seemed to cave in, the entrance shrinking in size. His vision impaired yet his surroundings lightened as if the sun were awakening. His mortal body had had enough, his consciousness beginning to dissipate.

The cries of a pack of Coyotes melded into one, an amalgamation of sorrow, anger, guilt, uncertainty, and pain. So deafening it challenges the soundness of the cave.

After some time, Julien's body goes limp, collapsing to the side. He's completely drenched in sweat, his body in a fetal position from the struggle it had just endured.

[undead persuasion]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⊱༒︎ Adelaide J Bortel || Female || 23 || Vampire || Adavine Forest - Knife's Edge|| Tag: x ༒︎⊰┈┈┈┈

The first thing Adelaide feels is ice.

Then the immediate suffocating pressure of dirt.

She scrambles for air, clawing at the earth, straining and pushing with every ounce of strength. At last, her hand breaks through the surface, erupting from the ground. She pulls herself up, choking on dirt and congealed blood, her body smeared with grime and frost. As she dry heaves, viscera splatters onto the ground, marking the white snow with grotesque brown and red.

Adelaide turns her head to look at the sky. The sky is still dark. The moon is still hanging suspended in the sky. She blinks. Once. Twice. Her heart, still and un-beating. Then agony. She doubles over, collapsing onto her hands and knees. She opens her mouth to scream, but no sound escapes; the intensity of her pain feels as if it has severed her voice from her throat. Her vision blurs, her senses heighten. Every sound, every touch, every smell is overwhelming. She heaves and gags as she feels her skin shift and tighten. Her hands fly up to grip her ears. They begin to lengthen and sharpen into a point, as if moulded from a finer, more delicate substance. She squeezes her eyes shut, as if willing this is all some sick twisted nightmare. Her gums throb, as if some primal instinct is awakening within her. Then, without warning, pain shoots through her mouth like a bolt of lightning. Her canines elongate, pushing against the soft tissue of her gums, which swell and bleed as they reshape to accommodate their transformation. It's excruciating. The teeth stretch outward, sharpening into a lethal point. They slice through the flesh of her gums, leaking droplets of crimson that spill into her mouth and run down her chin. Each sharpened fang settles into place, gleaming with an unnatural sheen. She slams her hands into the ground, pain shooting through her fingers. She digs her nails into the snow, attempting to numb them. Her nails begin to grow, the skin at the tips of her fingers rippling and stretching as a pair of razor-sharp claws burst forth from the quick.

All at once, the pain ceases, releasing her from its clutches. The absence as excruciating as when the pain began. She collapses onto the ground, curling in on herself, sucking in air through her mouth. She finally opens her eyes. The night seems brighter some how, the dark isn't as dark, the shadows not as all consuming.

She slowly sits up, she suddenly feels revived. She feels stronger, somehow, the cold less biting, movement less taxing. She stands, casting her eyes towards her hands. Her fingers tremble slightly as she stares down at her newly sharpened nails. She pushes her index finger into her palm. It easily pricks her skin, a tiny droplet of crimson beads at the wound. Without thinking, she brings her palm to her mouth, savouring the metallic taste of her own blood. It's delicious. And it's gone all too soon. She supresses the wave of disappointment as she turns her hand and runs the fleshy pads of her fingers along her fangs.

Adelaide is a whirlwind of emotions. A swirl of horror grips her as the reality of her transformation sinks in. Just what on earth is she? She reels. She should be dead. The grotesque nature of what she's become mingles with confusion and dread. And yet, beneath all that, a flicker of exhilaration ignites within her; for the first time in her entire life, she feels power. Pure, unadulterated, power. She stands frozen, right on the precipice between revulsion and awe.

The first soft rays of sunlight creep over the horizon, unfurling across the snow like delicate fingers of gold. They travel along the snow, twinkling amongst the icy crystals, crawling closer along the ground towards Adelaide. She reaches forward, the tips of her fingers just breaching the light. A flash of searing pain. She recoils back, hissing in pain and cradling her hand. She shifts backwards, retreating into the cave away from the harsh caress of the light.

She turns to face the dark, decrepit mouth of the cave. She can smell something, she realises. She frowns. It's sweet...intoxicating...delicious. Hungry. is the first thought that enters her mind. With a sudden overwhelming hunger, she follows the fragrance deeper into the cave, her footsteps echoing off the damp stone walls. The smell grows stronger, and she can feel her mouth watering in response. As she rounds a corner, she's freezes; A creature, its body sprawled across the cold, rocky floor, blood staining the ground, and beside it, a horse lies motionless, its eyes frozen in a pleading gaze.

Adelaide's body jerks forward against her will, an instinctive pull toward the intoxicating scent of blood. She struggles to restrain herself, covering her mouth with her hand, trying to keep it shut. The creature is breathing slowly, its huge hulking form curled inwards on itself. Patches of black fur grotesquely sprout from its skin, clinging to scabbed wounds as if they had violently forced their way out. The horse hovers protectively, snorting out puffs of hot air that briefly disturb the cool air of the cave.

Adelaide inches closer. The creature's huge claws curl and uncurl, its pointed ears flicking in her direction, despite its unconsciousness. Scars mark its body. Now kneeling just before it, her eyes scan the fallen creature, a visceral urge swelling within her. Without fully realizing what she’s doing, she leans in, fangs bared, fixated on the pulsing vein in its neck.

The horse lets out a startled whinny, pulling her from her trance. Shaking off her hunger, she reels back and forces herself to truly look at the horse for the first time. It seems oddly...familiar. She swallows the drool pooling in her mouth, the hunger almost overwhelming. She casts her gaze to the creature’s face. Sharp teeth mar its snout, and a singular, long, sharp canine juts from its maw. A jagged scar runs down its cheek. Adelaide freezes. She knows that scar.

Julien?

[oakfather preserve u]

⊱༒︎━━━━ : ̗̀ Julien Vaughan || Male || 37 || Coyote Lycanthrope || Knife's Edge || Tag: Adelaide : ̗̀⁍ ━━━༒︎⊰

As light begins to creep into the cave, traversing it's limits from the ground to the walls, Julien slowly returns. The mottled fur withdraws from head to toe, his neck glistening with sweat, cheeks rosy - flushed with sickness. His jeans had burst at the seams, belt buckle and satchel straps snapped, his precious trinkets scattered around the cave. Amidst the cold conditions, his skin radiates a fervent heat, almost warming the air around. His jeans, now a net of denim, conveniently cover his rear, not at all in a state to be worn. As he regains some consciousness, he twitches ever so slightly. His fingers had began to heal but his body's negative response to the complete rearrangement of his inner and outer physical making delayed the healing process, some parts coagulated burgundy, some still a sticky garnet.

His feverish cheek pressed against the cold stone floor, his eyelids struggle to lift. The pain at his nape that had been pestering him the entire night had gone. Blinking awake, his breaths are slow and ailing. As his eyes manage to open, he's faced with a small pair of feet, the figure looming over; his vision blurry.

"Uh... 'scuse me..." He croaks, his throat in a bad way.

"You're stepping on my hat." He turns onto his back, raising his chest as his joints and muscles ache, squeezing his eyes to bear the pain. He holds his breath, a sharp stab twisting his ribcage. Julien holds his heart, his hair curled and laid flat on his temples from the sheer amount of sweat.

Emrys observes Julien's movement, unsure of his current state. The horse keeps his distance for now, while staying close enough to be between the woman and his rider.

Julien feels a peculiar breeze, in an area not often exposed to nature. His eyes fling open, the realisation jolting his body into a sitting position, back turned towards the woman behind him. He tucks his head in embarrassment, his hands hovering - over.

The horse squeals in surprise, head fidgeting, hooves tapping impatiently.

"Emrys?" He calls to his steed, who diligently obeys. Emrys walks over and lies down to allow Julien some privacy. As he begins to come to his senses, the temporary adrenaline from the embarrassment dying down, the pain returns. He notices his hands first, bruised and misshapen. His fingers discoloured and stuck in an odd position, clawed and stiff. He attempts to straighten his fingers, feeling the stretch of every joint and tendon, jaws clenching from the skin-crawling sensation. He manages to open up his palms, however his knuckles remain bent for the time being.

He can feel the energy within him dwindling away. He's confused. His body felt beaten and battered. 'This will hurt later..' He thinks to himself. Trying to make sense of his current predicament, he looks around with his eyes first before his head begins to lift, scanning the cave left and right. Looking behind, he notices the appearance of the woman seemed... too familiar. Only now her complexion had dulled, her green eyes a void of a vitality that used to exist within. Taken aback, he turns halfway, peering over his shoulder.

"Didn't I just bury you?" He mumbles, the words baffling him as they leave his lips. He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands before returning his gaze to Adelaide, blinking as though trying to wipe away his bewilderment.

[undead persuasion]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⊱༒︎ Adelaide J Bortel || Female || 23 || Vampire ||Knife's Edge|| Tag: Julien ༒︎⊰┈┈┈┈

Adelaide looks in abject horror as Julien's form slowly recedes back into its usual shape in a grotesque display of shrinking skin and retreating hair. Her mouth is agape as she struggles to find the words, her mind reeling. Stepping gingerly off his hat, she stares at the man she had almost devoured a moment earlier, a sense of revulsion coursing through her.

"You... were the one who buried me?" she asks quietly. Her tongue darts over her fangs in an unconscious gesture, a sharp new edition to her face. The scent of Julien's dried blood wafts through the air, a siren's call that she desperately tries to suppress. She forces the thought away, clearing her throat.

"Right. Well. I got better." She remarks with a wry smile and with no lack of dry wit. "I suppose." She adds.

A beat of silence as she stares at Julien, her eyes unnaturally red and unblinking. It takes gargantuan effort to supress her hunger. She takes a moment and closes her eyes, swallowing down the drool pooling in her mouth. She cards her hands through her dishevelled hair, she can feel the dirt caking her skin.

"What happened?" She can't hold her tongue anymore. "Where are we? What's going on? Why did you bury me??" The words tumble out of her mouth. Her confusion and agitation is the only thing keeping her hunger at bay.

[oakfather preserve u]

⊱༒︎━━━━ : ̗̀ Julien Vaughan || Male || 37 || Coyote Lycanthrope || Knife's Edge || Tag: Adelaide : ̗̀⁍ ━━━༒︎⊰

His eyes squint in confusion. She actually spoke... Either this is a highly convincing figment of his imagination, a symptom of oncoming hysteria, or Adelaide Bortel was in fact back from the grave. His lips separate as his face drops in shock and slight fear, his mind churning for any plausible explanation for their current circumstance. He was growing weaker, his energy depleting the longer his eyes remain open. Rest would be wise, however inadvisable in a cave located in a place such as Knife's Edge.

"Well... Uh." He pauses, eyes scanning Adelaide's dress. "You died." His hand lifting, waving in a circular motion hinting to the shoulder of her dress, completely drenched and sticky in a rich mahogany.

Julien's body heat begins to die down as the shock of his transformation finally catches up to him, sending a creeping fever into his system. He suddenly feels a hint of nausea massage the inner most grooves of his mind, his stomach reeling in discomfort. His hand magnetises towards his mouth, pushing himself up in an emergency and running for the cave exit. His actions startle the horse, Emrys' ears perking awake. He gags violently, holding onto sick for as long as he can. His other hand guides his path, slapping the walls of the cave, pushing his momentum forward.

The sound of violent retching and melting snow commence seconds after the crunching impact of his knees against the freshly fallen crystals. The snowstorm had ceased, though the everlasting Gulch winds persist. He purges the bloody vile from his body, as if his inner linings were shedding. His fists catch him, squeezing the white powder as a means to cope with the uncontrollable convulsing, his pupils shrinking and eyes widening in horror. As it comes up, his throat catches aflame while his stomach begins to freeze, a sign that it was about to come to an end. Julien expels the remnants through a chesty cough, heaving at the sight of it all. His body violently shivers, unable to stifle an audible tremble in his voice. He falls back onto his elbows, backing away from his vomit. He struggles to breathe, only capable of taking inconsistent short breaths as he fights to open his irritated airway. Eventually, he catches his breath, speaking a request in between gulps of air.

"Miss.. My shirt.. Would you.. Mind.." His nethers numb from the piercing snow, however he was too weak to care. His entire body begins to shiver from the cold spreading across both internally and externally. He gathers the strength to sit up only to spare Adelaide from the sight. Emrys looks towards Adelaide, remaining alert and wary, sensing a hint of hostility from her.

His shirt and vest lay sprawled in the corner of the cave, his belt and trinkets scattered around the cave floor.

[undead persuasion]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈⊱༒︎ Adelaide J Bortel || Female || 23 || Vampire || Knife's Edge|| Tag: Julien ༒︎⊰┈┈┈┈

Adelaide casts her gaze down to her shoulder. It's drenched in dirt and blood. "Died," she repeats Julien’s word, barely glancing up as he rushes past her. Pressing a few shaky fingers against her neck she checks her pulse. Nothing. She checks her wrist. Nothing. A hand over her heart. Nothing. A laugh bubbles up from deep within her, erupting in a manic giggle. "Dead." she says flatly.

Adelaide is ripped from her thoughts as Julien calls to her. It’s only then that she registers his violent retching, the acrid stench of blood and vomit filling the air.

"Oh."

She doesn't move, still stunned.

"Oh!"

Her legs finally respond, propelling her forward as she grabs Julien's shirt and vest. She dashes toward him but halts abruptly at the cave's entrance, an instinct urging her to stay in the shadows. She remembers the excruciating pain from earlier in the sunlight and blinks several times, uncertainty flooding her mind. Instead of stepping into the light, she tosses his shirt and vest to him. "Sorry. I... can't... I'm not quite sure, actually." she mumbles apologetically.

Adelaide stands in silence, watching Julien as he trembles from the cold. She fumbles in her pockets, her fingers clumsily fishing around for her scissors until she finally finds them. In a deft motion, she cuts a rectangle from the thick outer fabric of her dress. She tosses it to Julien, and it lands on his lap in a crumpled pile. "Uh, here... for the cold," she rushes out. After a pause, she added, "It seems I’m... relatively unaffected by the temperature." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly self-conscious. She flexes her hands, testing the cold air against her skin. Her nerves register the cold but funnily it doesn't seem to affect her like it affects Julien. Maybe because I'm already dead. She thinks morbidly, not quite believing her own words just yet.