Horses and a Wagon [solo]
Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2021 1:38 am
80th of Frost, 120xx
Warmth... a fire? The smell of wood, of musk. The sounds of light tapping, wood on wood. A creaking, repetitive as a metronome, echoing in just the slightest way as if walls surrounded her.
Walls?
Her vision began to blur from its previous black and all around her the world began to focus. A sight once forgotten, a sight she had wanted to forget. Rigid wooden walls surrounded her on all sides. She looked ahead to see a hearth, above which a large stick she recognized as a gun was mounted upon metal rods. Her eyes, heavy, shifted with the tilt of her head to the right where the sound of creaking and tapping had been coming from. And there, in a sturdy chair that rocked back and fourth, sat a woman. Tall, well built, with long black hair and a strong jawline, she tipped her chair back in rhythm with her eyes closed.
Then she realized- bars surrounded her. Iron, cold, as cold as the metal floor beneath her. On every side she found the edges of the bars confining her to a space strangely large for a cage. It was nearly it's own room, hell it was. The cage completely separated half of the room, leaving ample space for her to walk back and fourth should she choose to. A small bed, fit for a human, sat in the corner next to a large door with a window showing the afternoon sky outside. But weariness held hold of her, no matter the panic she pressed through to her limbs as she took in her surroundings her body would not respond.
'How did I get here?... I was..'
Memories began falling back into place.
She'd been in the forest just outside of the city. Racing her way through the mountains in escape of that damn mountain lion once more. But it had looked different. Deformed, horrifying, it's once cream fur now a disgusting deep purple and black that bubbled and pussed out at the seams. It's eyes, once black, now missing as it ran completely driven by scent and sound. The grotesque creature that could hardly be called a mountain lion anymore smelled like death and rot as it chased Senara from her very cave down the mountain and through countless trees, down cliffs and ridges, and finally to the base of the mountain. The whole while ripping it's elongated claws through her flesh. Senara let out a horrible scream that shook the mists around them. Her shoulder was ripped open, torn flesh flapping in the wind as blood poured from her like a broken pipe. She sprinted. Once more away from the beast like only weeks before. And then- *snap*. A squeal, the brush of earth under her as her body was hoisted up into the air and something sharp pierced her shoulder blade. The last thing to pass through her visions had been a foggy shadow approaching her as she lay tangled in a metal net high above the earth.
And now she was here. She winced, which came from her as a strained whine. As she did the rocking stopped. Eyes opened. The woman with hair dark as night jolted from her rocking chair as if slapped and turned to see the large wolf laying in it's cage, whining, twitching, and her eyes widened.
"Still, Rathari." Her voice was cold. The harsh, ice splintering truth tore through Senara like a frozen dam shattering. Her words had come unhindered, unbridled, with no thought to how the wolf may react. But perhaps it was best, for it froze the girl in her place with sheer panic.
The woman came to stand just on the outside of the cage. "Yes, I know you. Have you not smelled me on the wind, seen my prints in the snow these past weeks?" She questioned, her gaze unyielding and posture rigid. "I'm sure you have question, so allow me to answer them."
"My name is Brianne Duras. I am a hunter, and on the 4th of Frost you took my kill. That's just how it goes sometimes, as you know." She shrugged her shoulders, but kept her eyes trained on the wolfs every move. "Since then I have followed you, you're not normal. Magnificent, I thought at first, perhaps the legends of the spirit of the mountain had been true. Hell, at first I wanted your pelt, too, but when I realized you were Rathari- that changed everything."
Questions ran through the wolves mind. How had she not scented the woman out all these weeks? How had she not noticed a human following her? The prints? Had fate played a cruel trick on her, or had the troubles of frost and the strange mists truly dulled her senses so much?
"After a few weeks, it became obvious that you had lived in the mountains your entire life, yes? Well, I am not okay with that." She stated it as if she owned her, "Especially not in that storm." The woman then stood, leather boots and fitted slacks leaving a soft swish sound in the air behind her. When she returned moments later she held a metal bowl filled with warm, steaming water, a wet rag, a pair of scissors, and a set of bandages. It was then Senara realized- her shoulder. Looking behind her she could see the edges of a long wrap of bandages around her torso. Old blood had seeped through the white. She ached, her body felt heavy, like lead, like it was a bag of wet ocean sand. But it also felt cold as ice. What in Ransera was going on? How did this woman even transport her?!
Brianne proceeded to pull the cage door open with a soft click of a simple lock, one that if Senara had used fingers, would have been able to open from the inside.
"So, I had set up traps in the hopes of catching you. After all, it's not like you'd come when called. Though I'm sure you're wondering how we got you from the hills to here, no?" A devlish confidence took her smirk up strong cheekbones. "Horses, child. Horses and a wagon." Her hands were firm, if not rough in their handling of the wolf as they gripped the bandages and began cutting them from her body. Moments later the pieces of old rag fell to the ground in soft, mocking flutters.
"Now you are here. And that disgusting mess of a mountain lion is no more." She was silent a moment. "I'll admit, I don't know what I plan to do with you now. But at least, you will let me heal you. And then when the mists calm down you may leave. But you will stay until then, understood? You won't keep your title as Spirit of the Mountains looking like this." It wasn't a question, even though it had been phrased as one. Something in the girls chest stung like a hot knife stabbing her straight through. She smelled... she didn't, her voice was rough and yet soft. The contrast of her being made Senara a strange set of peaceful and nauseous as she weakly submitted to the woman's command.
Something else bothered her. She couldn't remember most of her time on the mountains in the past few weeks. Vague foggy visions of long sleep, freezing temperatures that seemed to come from inside her own skin, and a strange taste in the air had kept her hidden. Perhaps it was what city folk called 'fever', or 'sick'- she thought maybe her father had mentioned it once before.. but any memories of him were useless. Whatever it was, she had hated it. And it had left her within nothing on her bones but skin and fur.
Then, she caught a shimmer of something. Hanging from the woman's wrist was a simple leather cord with an amber stone. It reflected the candlelight of the room in a gorgeous golden glimmer, and had small holes speckled throughout it. Was that...? She did say she'd been there the day the kenboku was dead. It must be. Senara chuffed. Were the gods mocking her again?
And now as she watched this strange woman tend to her, she was beginning to realize that perhaps Kalzasi was just filled with strange people. It didn't make much sense, but much like the winged man, and the three on the mountain; if they wanted her dead she'd already be so. And.. this woman knew she was Rathari. A fact that she had spent years trying to forget, to cast into the winds and the seas and never think of again. Perhaps the woman would end up requesting something of her later, make her a slave to her commands perhaps? It didn't matter. She would leave, just like she'd done with the triad on the mountain, and reclaim her rightful place.
The rest of the next two hours was spent in a wordless silence. Brianne cleaning her wounds, Senara laying there and slowly gaining her strength back. Every few moments she would growl at the woman as a wound would pain her, but the woman- in all her strange, haunting glory, would ignore her completely. Unphased by even a flash of teeth from a muzzle larger than her head. But the wounds of her frost in the mountains had drained her. Old scars had ripped, even the burned flesh from her night with by the blonde had stretched and opened in small sections where it hadn't been perfectly healed, and after the weeks of continued struggle in finding food Senaras fur had begun to fall out in small patches, and her gums had become nearly withered in their paleness. After careful cleaning of the wounds Brianne stepped away. She locked the cage behind her, and sighed with a wince as she took the dirtied basin of water and supplies back to what was seemingly the kitchen around the corner. She had a limp, too, something Senara hadn't noticed when she'd first woken.
A few minutes later the woman returned with an enormous slab of meat- an entire leg of an elk. It was nearly frozen, but the smell had caught Senara from the moment she had turned the corner and limped, dragging the piece over her shoulder like a sack of rice, and with a gentle click of the lock threw the leg of meat in beside the wolf.
With a huff she stood back up, dusting her hands off.
"Eat. There is water beside you, and if you need to relieve yourself the door behind you may be opened at any time by pushing on it."
And with that the woman went to sit back in her chair, picked up a small block of wood and knife on an end table, and began widdling away the small piece. Every so often flicking her eyes up to watch the wolf.
Senara simply stared at her. At least for the first few moments before instinct took over and she sunk her teeth into the flesh. Elk... one of her favorites, if she would admit to having favorites. While it wasn't warm any longer it still had that same bitter, gamey taste, and she couldn't help but applaud the woman for her superior choice in leg meat. Perhaps she wasn't simply a stupid human after all, if she knew that much. For the next half hour Senara sat on the ground tearing into the meat with a weary yet aggressive affection for the meal. And after nothing but clean bone was left, she picked herself up off the ground with a grunt and staggered to the large wooden water bowl in the corner of her kennel.
Kennel... the spiders words ran through her mind. 'Pet'.
'I am no pet...'
She thought to herself as she hung her head over the edge of the bowl and stared down at her reflection. Her once grand, filled out features now jarringly rigid and thinned. Her eyes had sunken, her fur no longer held it's luster, and skin clung to her bones as if it were afraid it would fall off. She chuffed. How had she become so frail? It was unacceptable.. horrible. With a promise to reclaim her title, her mountains, she leaned downa and began lapping at the water slowly- no matter how much she wanted to panic.
Moments later she laid down towards the back of her cage, next to the human bed. It didn't take long before the wolf fell into yet another fever induced sleep to the soft sound of a crackling fire and carving wood.
