Her breathing was calm. Controlled. Her mind was anticipating any attack that could come next. Her eyes following the steps of the large beast, as it circled her. No fear showed in her actions or body. She was low to the ground, crouched and moving in unison with the creature. Her face still unknown to him, shrouded by shadow. But it was like he wasn't there, like he was only observing.
The wolf circled her hungrily, snarling and drooling with the anticipation of fresh meat. Like he had been starved for weeks. She wasn't wavering like most would, not struggling with the fear that the average person would have. It was like this wasn't real to her, though it was more real that even he could imagine.
Then the wolf stopped, like it had always done. It had stopped pacing around the woman, and stood up straight from it's low crouch. It's snarling face turned calm and gentle, and it's eyes moved until they were settled on him. It only stared, and sat motionless. Then even she became unknown to his senses. She was gone from where she was, gone in the darkness that had now occupied his mind.
His ears were then filled with the howl of the wolf. It's body remained still and and calm, as the howl left it's mouth. Then he could feel himself again. He could feel the warm air that had heated his camp. And as he awoke, the echoes of the wolf's lonely howl still ringing in his ears. And he sat forward on his bed roll, staring into the dark forest, with only the soft sounds of burning wood to accompany him.
Lyron had been alone for as long as he can remember, or at least since he had set off to be. This dream that had visited him every moment he could actually find sleep, had become the only company that he could ever find. Even if he couldn't decipher exactly who this woman was, she was the only human contact that he had in weeks, months even.
The cold of the Wrothgarian Mountains had kept him overall undetected by the man he had been hunting. His group of assorted mercenaries were to ignorant of the wilderness and hadn't ever bothered to search farther than a mile or to from their camp. This only made it easier for Lyron to follow their every movement.
Now, Lyron had enough information on this man's leader, that he could finally end him. The man said that the leader was somewhere in Cyrodiil, most likely with the Dominion's navy. It wouldn't be the easiest trip from the altitude that Lyron as at amidst High Rock. But it was a trip that he would have to make.
The wolf circled her hungrily, snarling and drooling with the anticipation of fresh meat. Like he had been starved for weeks. She wasn't wavering like most would, not struggling with the fear that the average person would have. It was like this wasn't real to her, though it was more real that even he could imagine.
Then the wolf stopped, like it had always done. It had stopped pacing around the woman, and stood up straight from it's low crouch. It's snarling face turned calm and gentle, and it's eyes moved until they were settled on him. It only stared, and sat motionless. Then even she became unknown to his senses. She was gone from where she was, gone in the darkness that had now occupied his mind.
His ears were then filled with the howl of the wolf. It's body remained still and and calm, as the howl left it's mouth. Then he could feel himself again. He could feel the warm air that had heated his camp. And as he awoke, the echoes of the wolf's lonely howl still ringing in his ears. And he sat forward on his bed roll, staring into the dark forest, with only the soft sounds of burning wood to accompany him.
Lyron had been alone for as long as he can remember, or at least since he had set off to be. This dream that had visited him every moment he could actually find sleep, had become the only company that he could ever find. Even if he couldn't decipher exactly who this woman was, she was the only human contact that he had in weeks, months even.
The cold of the Wrothgarian Mountains had kept him overall undetected by the man he had been hunting. His group of assorted mercenaries were to ignorant of the wilderness and hadn't ever bothered to search farther than a mile or to from their camp. This only made it easier for Lyron to follow their every movement.
Now, Lyron had enough information on this man's leader, that he could finally end him. The man said that the leader was somewhere in Cyrodiil, most likely with the Dominion's navy. It wouldn't be the easiest trip from the altitude that Lyron as at amidst High Rock. But it was a trip that he would have to make.
-~~8~~-
He watched from above with unyielding attention. He didn't take his eyes off of the man below him. Lyron tightened his grip on the hilts of his swords. This was the only chance that he would have to get rid of the man before moving on. The thought of getting revenge started to fill his mind. Adrenaline made his heart pump hard and fast. Lyron pulled his bow from his back, and notched an arrow, and fired it into the man's leg. Then fired repeatedly at the men around him, who foolishly started to stagger and yell.
Their screams for mercy filled the forest, but were cut off as Lyron unleashed his last arrow. All that was left was the shivering of the man that he had patiently waited to eliminate. Lyron dropped from his perch, and landed at the feet of the fallen man. He pulled the dark hood from his head to reveal his scarred and burned face. He could hear the man gasp quietly beneath the cover of his mask. Lyron crouched at the side of the man, and pulled the mask from his head, to reveal his face.
A shiver of anger and pain ran down Lyron's spine as he saw the man's face. He was there the night that changed him. "Ya," the man spoke in a shutter, "you know my face, boy." Lyron stood, and turned from the man, trying to control the anger that was starting to consume him once again. "I was there," He continued, "I was there the day we spilled the blood of that wolf bitch all over the floor."
The man started to stand on his wounded leg, as he spoke at Lyron. "I can't believe that someone can love a disgusting creature like that." Lyron turned, his teeth grinding, trying to control the rage that was building within him, "Quiet your voice, pig!" He warned, pacing in front of the man.
"She was an ugly little whore, wasn't she?" the man taunted once more, "I'm just glad I got to see her suffer!" Lyron turned to the man, shaking in fear. Thoughts of darkness shuttering through him, and his rage taking over. A yell left Lyron's mouth, at the man, as Lyron drew his swords.
The moans of terror came from the man, who's blood pooled on the forest floor around him. The man knelt in shock, as his arms fell helplessly to the ground below. Lyron kicked the man in the chest, with another shout. "I want you to bleed like she did!" He shouted at the man, "I want you all to suffer the way that I have!"
Flashes of blood, and pain filled Lyron's mind. He saw this man's face grinning, as he watched Amallae's blood pour on the floor. Lyron felt the pain that he saw that day once again, the pain that he had felt when his love's insides were pulled from her body in front of him, while he couldn't do anything to help. He could here the laughing that all the men let out as her body hit the bloody floor. Lyron could feel the pain in his throat that he had felt when he screamed in grief. This pain only fueled his rage more, and urged him to end the man.
The man's body started to shutter as he reached the brink of death. Lyron stood over him, and watched as he bled. Lyron thrust his arm through the man's neck, removing his head from his body, and Lyron's anger fled from his body. All while his conscious returned to him. The man laid dead beneath his feet. Lyron felt a feeling of fear once again, a feeling that he had gotten after every kill. It was a feeling that he had learned to brush away, and move passed. Only because his mind was already filled to the brink with thoughts of anger and relentless grief.
