'Ei wiit cem 'ey [Dylan, Drannoch]

[Emiste Arquette]

Emiste once again found herself home. She'd been sent by Aadonii on a mission. Something for the clan of course. It was always for the clan, and it was always her. Second in command, 'Cema turned Shephet, there weren't many who liked seeing her. If you met her, it was generally bad news bears for you.

Despite being quite skilled, and quite proud of what and who she was, she'd barely made it home alive. Damn Bounty Hunters and their hired 'Cema. Hired killing whores was more like it, selling out their training to lowlifes for a few gula. Or for the blood of their bounty, which promised them immortality.

But home she was. Bruised and bleeding, but home. It was night finally, the moon shone through the forest canopy. Same place, same time. A whisper of a wind. Similar kind of night actually. Months later, but the setting was the same. Almost like Deja Vu.

"Dylan...", Emiste closed her eyes as she whispered the name into the wind as if she could produce the girl out of thin air.

'Ei wiit 'cem ey' She pushed the thought into the night. Willing it to find Dylan and sink into her mind, willing her to hear and answer Emiste's call. Why? Emiste wasn't sure. She was simply following her gut.

"I will find you." -- again she pushed the thought, this time in English. It was their way, mixing A'iilaeic and English. Their way. That's really what it was all about. Making the others see it their way.

Emiste reclined against the tree, knee popped out to rest her foot agains the trucnk behind her. Dagger in hand, tracing the blade, oblivious to the blood dripping from her own finger to mingle with the blood from her other wounds on the forest floor.

Time to wait. Dylan wouldn't make her wait long.

[Dylan]

It had been a few days since Dylan had seen Emiste. A rather soulless entity had swept her up off her feet as she became rather disinterested in the life of separation. She had seen herself longing to be with the dark haired female, just being around her gave her a satisfied feeling of safety and assurance that Dylan had finally met at least one person who wasn't weirded out by her.

Her long dark hair fell just pass her ass, her head leaning back, dropping the inches more so that it had been just below. Her body willowed in black lace. The tightness of the corset darkened by withered rose patterns while the rest was near sheer and flowing down over toes. It was her mothers dress from before. Before the death and before Dylan became feared.

She sighed, standing against the frame of that door, the small confines holding her in as she gazed up at the moon. It's darkness filling her with further more emptiness.

"Dylan"

She heard her name being called as the wind picked up and shuffled fabric and hair along in it's drift. Her eyes closed, lids covering hues as porcelain pale skin shivered with delight.

'Ei wiit 'cem ey'

Her eyes opened slowly, softly, how she had hoped it wasn't another daydream. Nightdream.

Her body turned, eyes shifting in the direction of where she felt the passing of Emiste. Her hand left the doorknob, her form leaving down the trail from her house. She was going to go to her. See her finally after those three painstaking days.

"Emiste?"

A wounded look about her face, curious....worried....hurt herself? It was almost as if she would feel her pain for her. Wanted to feel her pain.

Dylan ran to her with swift lengthy legs, arms out to place a hand on her shoulder, careful not to hurt her more.

"I must fix you. What has happened?"

She was more scared for her than anything. Should Dylan find out who had done it, she would unleash the fury that many feared she truly possessed.

"Who has done this?"

Blood had started to form at the ridge of her lower lids, waiting it's turn to form into tears. If Dylan had so much as shed one tear, someone was going to pay.

Carefully she led her into the domain, setting her down to sit in the open. Kneeling beside her. She wanted to know. She wanted to know why her Emi was wounded.

[drannoch]

Hunting immortals had become a way of life for Drannoch. He had always been good at tracking and killing as a sport, however hunting for others is somewhat profitable. Everyone has to earn their keep somehow, right? Drannoch was no different. He hunted out of necessity...a mercenary of sorts. A skillful one at that.

Drannoch found himself deep in an unknown forest. He pulled out a parchment with the bounty orders. "I must find Ephet'aime," he thought to himself. "It must be near."

Every good assassin knows it is best to strike during the early morning hours, and time was running out fast as dawn was quickly approaching. Because Drannoch was running out of time, he decided to postpone his hunt one more night and set up camp--surely he would be safe outside the town limits hidden within the forest.

[Emiste Arquette]

"Emiste?"

Dylan's voice drifted like a melody to her ears. Her mouth spread into a smile, bright red lips parting slightly over gleaming teeth. A cold smile, not because she wasn't fond of the girl, but because that was how she was. Cold. Fuck the world attitude.


"I must fix you. What has happened?"

Emi's shoulder length black hair floated into her face, partially obscuring her view of Dylan, she pushed it back with the tip of her dagger, revealing again both of her deep azure eyes. Penetrating pools of blue. Dylan's had done the same and Emiste reached a blood stained hand slowly toward her, stopping just short of touching the girl as she suddenly stared at her own hand as if seeing it for the first time. As if suddenly realizing it was covered in her own blood.

"Who has done this?"

Dylan pressed her for an answer. And as Emiste opened her mouth to answer her pleas - for certainly Dylan's voice was wavering somewhere near despair, heartbreak, and rage threatening to break loose.

But there was a sound that did not belong there among them. Footfalls that were heavier than their own kind. Even Dylan being a hybrid had lighter steps. Too light to be a human, lighter still than a 'Dema. Curious how each species could be identified by the way they traipsed through the woods.

'
Cema. Damn. Emiste's head whipped towards the sound. Her blue eyes flashing red as her face dropped its cold smile into a still colder glare. Into nothingness she stared. Nothing to be seen, yet, only heard. If it was a scout, or someone following her home from her mission, they were already dead. And if it was simply a lost 'Cema -- sucks for them, they were still dead. And better off for being such a poor example of what should have been an elite class of human. In this day and age, one couldn't be too safe, you knew never when a 'Cema would decide to sell out to one of those bounty hunters.

She half sighed with her own thoughts, shame it had to come to this. Sometimes immortality was a curse.

She pushed away from the tree.

"Get ready." was all she said. Both daggers out and in hand, ready for whatever presented itself. It was going to be an interesting night indeed. And with morning not so far off..... interesting was an understatement.

[Dylan]

She had been breathily near raggedly as she pulled at fabric and had wrapped it over one wound to stop the bleeding. That was when Emiste had caused her to pause in her actions.

"Get ready."

Dyland paused, slender fingers stretched out as she pulled back those arms by her side, her eyes lowered animal like as her body twisted on the floor by Emi's feet, palms prowling over the floor as she lifted a bit of the shadows up from over the cover of the floor and throughout the house. Ears minked like a fox as she steadily heard the steps approach through.

The door was closed. Her head turned back and sadly looked over at Emiste. Already she was hurt, why should she let her get hurt anymore? Why not protect her as she had done for Dylan for so long now? The only one to show her kindness and take her in as a friend. Even so much as to bring her to someone higher up than she.

Her form had diminished into nothing but black ashen shadow, spilling through the crack just beneath the door and the earth like dark smog billowing out like a witches brew. Dare he so much as make his way near that door, surely her fog would billow up around the man and blind him well enough to keep him at bay. Swirl around him in a mass of unforgivable horrors as she worked her way into ducts and somehow make him bleed just as Emi herself was bleeding. She needed to make sure he was in fact the threat first. Demon forgive him.

[drannoch]

As Drannoch was searching for a suitable place to make camp for the night, he glimpsed in the moonlight a cabin set in a small clearing in the forest. He cocked his head to one side as he pondered the reason for this cabin to exist in the middle of essentially nowhere. His curiosity got the best of him and he slowly crept along the floor of the woods, being careful to keep any noise to a minimum--avoiding twigs and leaves scattered about--lest someone actually be home and hear him. Surely someone who would stay in such a secluded cabin would not care for an unwelcome guest in the middle of the night.

As he approached the cabin, he unsheathed his dagger, the blade extremely sharp as he always kept it. He was not afraid to use it, however he did not enjoy killing for the sake of killing, unless there was some profit attached to it.

Perhaps the cabin would be deserted. It had been at least a week since Drannoch had slept in a bed. His training did not require him to have such luxuries, however he would not pass up any opportunity.

As he got nearer to the front door, Drannoch's extraordinary sense of hearing caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

"Get ready."

He clenched his dagger tighter and decided to take the advice himself.

[Emiste Arquette]

Emiste noted the occlusion Dylan provided. The only downfall to that was it slightly decreased her ability to absorb moonlight, which she desperately needed to be able to heal and restore herself to her full strength.

If it came down to a fight, as she usually assumed all encounters with strangers would, she knew she would be fighting wounded. That prospect did not do anything for her disposition. Another strike against whoever was lurking in the woods.

If there had been any doubt before, there was none now. No Shephet would stay hidden for so long. Especially after having so poorly quieted their advancement. Where the hell was the clan when you needed them? Fuck her if she was always the one sticking her neck out for a rabble of incapable immortal wastes of air.

She crouched low, glanced at Dylan doing her own thing. My how she loved to watch the girl work. How much she had grown close to her. How much she wished to teach her, show her still. But tonight was not a lesson. This was not practice. Emiste could only hope Dylan knew the severity of their predicament. A injured Shephet, and a hybrid against an unknown 'Cema....could be bad.

Her eyes changed again, from red to green with the intensity she felt in the moment.

Juaste 'ey (Guard yourself). She whispered to Dylan in A'iilea - there was a chance their approaching stranger was unable to understand the ancient language, but Emi doubted even herself on that one. But it wasn't just a warning against the stranger. It was an command: Don't be heroic, don't get yourself killed trying to defend me was essentially what she meant. She suspected that Dylan of course wouldn't listen - but it had to be said. Clan rules - you don't endanger your Shephetling. Dylan, though hybrid, was that to her. One day perhaps she'd be full-blood, but that day wasn't today. Emi's head would roll if Dylan died here tonight. Better one than two, Emi would take the hits. She braced herself against the coming threat.

Everything was a threat to her.

"You wanna play 'Cema? I don't know what your game is - but I'll show you mine, and I can guarantee you...you won't like it."

It was gonna be a hell of a ride.

[Dylan]

"You wanna play 'Cema? I don't know what your game is - but I'll show you mine, and I can guarantee you...you won't like it."

She could hear her Emi through the door in a murmur of echoes. Blocked out partially by the haze of darkness she was now leveled in. The man. He drew his blade and her heart swelled for her darling Emi. No.....he couldn't hurt them....this was her forest. Her Emi. No man, or no other breed would intrude if they knew what was good for them, especially since Dylan had traveled from her own dwelling to this one. She should have stayed with Emiste. If only for a night, at least she would have helped to avoid those marks against her.

She needed to heal.

Dylan's form had started to appear behind the man at a great distance. Her form standing tall and firm in that spot as words lifted through the air from her lips to his mouth. A sort of spine chilling giggle was let out by the dark banshee marked Hybrid.

"He will not hurt either of us...."

She tilted her head to the right as she looked at him with such an eerie focus. Dylan was just odd and anyone who would have laid eyes upon her would tell you the same. How she was flexible in her actions. Letting her body drape in any direction just so her muscles could build and relax.

"Will you traveler?"

Lips pursed as she started to walk close, close enough that she brushed past him in a stalking like manor. The door to the dwelling being pushed open and she laid eyes upon him as she stepped across the thresh hold.

"He does look a bit drab...does he not?"

She directed toward Emiste in a stagger. Slinking down by Emi's feet like a feverish black cat who desired a treat. Leaving the man to stand there in the passing.

"He smells of bounty blood."

She spoke in a wicked like way. Her throat heavy with distaste as she curled around Emi's leg and looked up at the man through strands of hair and thick lashes.

[drannoch]

Drannoch's heart skipped a beat as the stranger appeared behind him. Although his gaze never left the cabin ahead, he was always very aware of his surroundings and knew that there was no possible way a mortal would have been able to creep up on him in such a way. No, Drannoch's training and experience bounty hunting had given him the ability to at least be able to distinguish between the mortal and the immortal. Given that he was just outside Ephet'aime, he was sure this woman was Shephet.

"He will not hurt either of us.... Will you traveler?"

Drannoch's knuckles were turning white from the intense grip he had on his dagger. Although he was very experienced with killing her kind, he relied on stealth and surprise to behead his targets. "Either of us?" he thought to himself? Shit..there's two of them.

"I am not here for you. I am returning home from some business within the city and I have lost the path I was following."

He was sure his own fear would expose his lie. If they found out his occupation, things could get bad fast. Hell, things might get bad fast just because he was outnumbered. Or just because. The Shephet don't always need a reason.

[Emiste Arquette]

Emi straightened but did not relax her body as Dylan spoke. Although hidden from her view, they were not far apart from each other, not by the sound of where her voice was coming from.

Emi smirked. Dylan had learned much, and contributed much to her own teaching simply by being herself - she had a way about her. A way Emi adored. So like and unlike her own self.

The words bounty blood gave her some pause, and she had to restrain herself from launching through the trees and brush and killing the poacher right then and there. Spill his blood, see how he liked being hunted. She had to admit, though, the hunt really was the thrill. As much as she hated bounty hunters and the 'Cema they employed, she understood the addiction. The hunt was intoxicating. And for 'Cema, profitable as well as adrenaline-rush producing. Having been raised and trained 'Cema she understood the draw, but as the Shephet she had become, it was the one evil that revolted her.


"He will not hurt either of us.... Will you traveler?"

Dylan, dylan, so coy, so sure, so persuasive. She had to grin at that. Well he could try to hurt them...Emiste almost wished he would. Her body had been building tension since she'd first heard his footsteps, she needed a release. Never mind her wounds, she relished them. Pain was a wonderful reminder, immortals could die. Immortality was really a myth, it only meant you couldn't die a natural peaceful death. It sentenced you to a cruel, painful suffering. The end was still the same - the road a little harder. Woe to those who sought immortality and didn't fully understand it.

But for those like Emiste who welcome and drank in the suffering, immortality was like heaven. Or as close to heaven as a Shephet would ever get.

"I am not here for you. I am returning home from some business within the city and I have lost the path I was following."

Masculine voice following Dylan's. Nervous? Possibly. Emiste's grin deepened. Good. As he should be.

She stepped away from the place she had so firmly set her feet, prepared for battle. Still tensed for anything, but able to portray a false relaxed poise. She walked almost lazedly. If it was possible to appear amused by one's gait, this was how she moved. Daggers held lightly, but not insecurely. She was quick with a blade. Quick to use, quick to kill. Let him make one move she didn't like. Didn't really matter why he was there, fact of the matter was, he was THERE. Reason enough to dispose of him. Not his territory. Lost he had said? Poor 'Cema!

"But..." she mused, her voice carrying an almost cat-like purr to it," How exactly does a 'Cema become lost?" she circled him now, keeping a distance between them, enough to give her reaction time should he act up. She let out a low chuckle. Her eyes still glowing green drilling him, looking him up and down. Drab Dylan had said. Hardly -- but insults were her thing, and Emiste was hard pressed to contradict her in front of the 'Cema.

"Yes, yes I know what you are." she pushed the thought into his mind.

[Dylan]

Dylan was already uninterested in the man at the door. She wanted to lick the wounds of Emi and make her feel better. The hunter could go about his way and make it on the earth. Emiste, she could sense her tension and thirst. Dylan was always amused and entertained in the ravages of Emi's need to kill on a thrill.

Her right hand moved gently over her abdomen, eyes not bothering to look in his direction or hers, but low to the ground as her senses of projection could play into view. Dylan knew that Emi could defend herself at any and all cost, but Dylan moved quick quick, too quick and she could shift and become one with the darkness. For days she had been practicing on how to make another do the same if she had held on, but it had been no such luck, however, Dylan would continue to try.

Nails nearly draged along Emi's inner thigh as she lowered her hand. It wasn't a sexual gesture to have her hand there, it was a security thing, and it was to keep her back from killing the bounty blood.

She wanted to speak and say how bored she had been. Toss him aside so she could aide her back to one hundred percent. If he was to stay, Dylan would surely ignore him for the entire night. Unless she so desired to pester him. Push him and then she could eat. Cannibal or not, with meat from God and vegetables and fruit by mother nature, she was more than close to her roots than any immortal could be. But it wasn't an every day thing. Meals given or prepared when it so landed across her doorstep. Just as this man had. He was lucky it was Emi's home and not her own.