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[ First2Go-Last2Know and InkWeaver RPing ] [ Start date: 3/12/07 ] [ End date: ??/??/?? ]
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Grunting in his sleep Tiran pulled out of his dreadful slumber. Yawning like a snake his pearly fangs reflected off the candle light. "Humph.." he moaned, "Yet another day filled to the brim with vermins awaiting my slaughter." Of course he spoke of the humans, who were like maggots, festering in each and every crevis of the earth they could dig their malace hands into. Streatching out of his coffin, a man as handsom as the sun stood just above two sleeping women. Who had conviniently curled themself at the bottom edge of their lord's bed. A dagger filled grin crawled its way along the young man's face, making his tender cheeks bulge slightly with color. "My dears," he purred, "Did something frighten you in your dreadfully sunny day?" His question was answered in light breathing, both the girls still lost in a peaceful sleep. With a shrug Tiran walked toward his heavy shades, which were drawn over his huge windows. Sweeping the curtain away, he basked in moon light with a playfull grin etched into his face.

Lessa woke suddenly, a cold sweat trailing down her neck and spine. Glancing around the tiny bedroom, she sighed then swung her legs over the edge of her small, wooden bed, the covers twisted and crumpled at the foot of it. Lessa stretched then rose, her feet padding silently over the cool floor. She slid her undergarments on quickly, followed by an old, thin shift and simple overskirt. Still barefoot, she tiptoed out of the house to avoid waking her little brother and went outside, wandering across a quiet field, admiring the night sky. The only thing nearby that blocked the light of a few, distant stars were the parapets of an ancient castle, always rumored to be haunted. With slight curiousity, she wandered nearer to it, sure that she had seen something move across one of the grand windows.

Tiran's sharp eyes caught sight of the girl easily, threw the tall grass and midnight wind she looked like a frail ghost. Almost instantly Tiran felt his bloodlust blind him, his eyes turned bloodshot and he fought to crash threw the very window he stood before. It had been just over three days since he had anything, besides his two females, to drink. Thier taste, though sweet, couldnt satisfy him fully and now seeing a fresh body just about set him off. He cringed as he forced himself away from the window, walking with a slight limp he made his way to the girls. "Bell, Vida. Wake up." He commanded harshly, the two girls were awake immediatly and gazed up at him with smitten eyes. "I will be out for just a while, keep an eye on things while im away."

Both girls were scarcely able to nod before Tiran turned his back to them. The two struggled to their feet, and Bell was the first to speak in a small voice. " M'lord," she uttered, "How long will you be gone?"

"Please M'lord," said Vida, the second, "How long?"

"Just a while." As he spoke he made no attempt to look at either of them, and he silently made his way to the far door.

Lessa shook her head, her auburn curls in disarry, falling in front of her almond colored eyes. She decided to lay down in the grass, it was soft and green, so her view of the sky was unobstructed. She lay with her arms behind her head and her legs stretched. She was small for seventeen, and too thin because her family was poor. But Lessa was content with her life, she was free to wander and explore and besides being a little emaciated she never got ill.
She was always dreaming, and though she couldn't write she loved to tell stories to her brother, her sheep, or just to the empty air. Lessa enjoyed being alone, free to imagine and wonder without interruption, especially on cool, clear nights where the moon shone like a glowing beacon surrounded by crystalline stars.

Hearing the girls clatter behind him, Tiran kept a steady pace. He knew the girls were to fearful to dare wander out of his castle, but still the fact that they were following tickled his nerves. Moving threw the sparkling halls he found his leather clad shoes placed neatly beside the wall, slipping into them he eventually did look at the two. His eyes unfortunatly had turned from playfully loving to stone cold, and this made the two stop in their tracks. Thier faces were filled with fright, but still held eyes glazed over with infatuation. Without a word he again turned from them, Bell opened her mouth to speak, but quickly reconsidered. Taking a candle stick from the wall, Tiran left the couple as he ascended alone down the spiral staircase. An echoing light bubbled from the burning wick, radiating the steps with light. His shadow streatched along the wall, bouncing in unison with his stride.

Lessa let her mind wander as she gazed at the sky, but for some reason her mind kept returning to the stone castle hovering in her peripheral. She hadn't really believed it was haunted, but there's no reason some one else couldn't live there. Lessa grew increasingly curious about the stone monolith towering behind her and who could live there.

Slowly she sat up, then stood, feeling very small and isolated near the ancient castle. Slowly, she walked with tentative steps toward a crumbling wall covered with ivy, from a distance her silhouette became perfectly clear, a slender form almost floating toward a ruin.

The thinning staircase rolled it's way down the castle, Tiran walked silently ignoring all the wooden doors that lead into each chamber. Every thing was old in the mansion, from the doors which were rotted over and barely hanging from rusted hinges, to the windows where the wind was able to blow threw cracked glass. Only four rooms in the castle were fixed to perfection; his room, the girl's room, a guest room and a show room. The show room being a place where Tiran could invite important guests to peacefully and comfortably enjoy thier days. Filled with any sort of pleasure they could posibly want, the show room was indeed fantastic; stocked full of whines, clothes, foods, maps and even its own library. The windows were covered in red velvet shades, the floor decked with shaggy black carpet. The tables were polished clean, the couches smoothed to a delicate fluff. The walls were even lined with marvalous paintings, all drawn by Tiran himself. Passing that room, the chorus of Tiran's foot steps vibrated off the stone floor, in only a short time he had reached the main level and now stood before a large chained door. Rattling the metallic locks he pulled the heavy door open with extreme ease, the damp air filled his nose and Tiran could already taste the girl's flesh.

Lessa ran her fingers over the crumbling wall, the damp, rugged texture completley different than her own wooden walled home. She heard a rattle, the sound carrying easily over the open field. Lessa jumped, glancing around nervously, then laughed at her own folly. Her laugh pealed like small bells in the crisp air, and when she finally calmed down, she thought -It's just stories people tell to scare children.-

He followed her dilectable scent around the mansion, keeping close to where the crisp wind blew strongest. Not long before he reached the edge of the moss covered wall he thought he had heard the wind carry a chiming laugh, but being drowsy from his lack of blood, he wasnt so sure now. Tiran shook his head to clear his mind, but instead he managed to send volts of bloodlust through his weak body. He hissed threw clenched teeth, trying to calm his nerves once more. The girl was closer now, and as he turned the corner the hairs on his arms stood. His body trembled with lust, each vein burning with the cry of unquenchable* thirst. "Just a taste..." He pleaded, "thats all i want.."

Lessa turned slowly, peering into the darkness, the quiet desparation in the strangers voice making her scalp tingle apprehensively. She could almost make out his form in the shadows, if only she took a step closer...

She tried to make herself turn around and run home, but something drew her closer, like a moth flutttering toward a candleflame, but this fascination had nothing to do with the light. A strange burning blossomed in the pit of her stomach and a straining curiousity overcame her caution. Lessa's firmly planted feet moved slowly towards the cry from the darkness, and her only thought was this, -Who...what is this person, this thing?-

Tiran stumbled to her, his cat eyes quickly ambushed the girl. He steaded himself at the sight of her, thrusting his chest forward and pressing his dark hair from his face. At first he was taken away by her hair, which billowed out in soft curls, but then is gaze quickly shifted to the curve of her neck. Focusing deeply he caught the slight movements pulsing* from the artery that lay just below her skin. With a forced breath Tiran's canines emerged onto his lips, one was pressed hard against his lip's tender skin, and a tiny bubble of blood formed at its end. Opening his mouth, which quivered in the shadows as he spoke. "Young lady," he said, "Dont you know its dangerous to be out here so late in the night?" His tone held the slightest hint of worry, "What are you doing here? Where do you live?" Though Tiran made on attempt to reach for her, he wanted to badly.

Lessa saw the drop blood trickle down his lip, and a flash of understanding occured when she saw the hint of pearly fangs glimmer in the darkness as he spoke. Despite the dangerous hunger burning in his gaze she remained where she stood, the melodic sound of his voice weaving through the night air.

Jolted out of her observations, Lessa replied softly,"Well, I was just thinking of stories, it's easier to imagine at night." She realized how odd this must have sounded and bit her lower lip, deciding it was no odder than...well, than what was happening. "I live in a village across the way," she added, vaugely gesturing with a slender, calloused hand.

His eyes followed her hand across the field, he studied the hill side for a while seemingly lost in thought. The wind shifted quickly, lurching Tiran toward the castle. His hair and clothes fluttered in a fury, slamming against him steadily. Though he didnt appear to be bothered by the sudden gust, his face holding the same passive emotion, he did seem to be somewhat dazed. "Yes," he said clearing his throat and breaking the silence, "Stories are better at night, but only if they are made for them." The howling wind calmed down and returned to a peaceful breeze, now only lightly pushing at them. "What kind are you thinking of, baby-bat?"

The wind pushed Lessa forward, closer to the mysterious stranger, the gale blowing her hair into her face and her ragged skirt whipping wildly. When the wind calmed she ran her fingers through the long, tangled curls and tried to pry the knots apart.

"Stories about the castle, and darkness, and the moon," inhaling deeply, she gazed up into the dazzling night sky again, the moon looking ripe and glowing as the shining pin-p***k stars twinkled. Sighing, she returned her focus to the man, and added quietly to herself "It seems as though my stories were more true than I thought."

"Rumors are almost always true, its just there are those few who choose not to believe in them." His words escaped his lips like poison, his eyes held the same venom as they traced her neck again. "Like the rumors I hear about your quaint little village. How peaceful i hear they are, how their honey still flows." Tiran's voice grew lowder more hateful, "I hear they love everyone and except anyone. But what secrets do they hide?" He took a step toward the girl, his body radiating bloodlust. "Everyone holds tight to the key that locks their closet door. Its only a matter of time till you see the skeleton with your innocent eyes." He reached out now, running his thumb over the girl's eyes. He cupped her face softly drawing her to look at him, "Or have you already seen them?"

Lessa flinched when his voice rose in anger, the ferocity of his tone sounding too familiar for comfort. She bit her lip and drew back, as if to avoid a thundering blow and was instead suprised at the gentle touch sweeping across her eyelids and a slight pull to draw her nearer. Rather than cry out, she stared past those eyes observing her now and into the roiling deep of emotions playing behind them, piercing through the outer facade of civility.

"I may have innocent eyes, sir, but the darkness always looms behind them. Innocent dreams and imagings they might see, but these are created as an escape," she murmured as anger crept into her voice. She remained perfectly still, her gaze fixed firmly on the inhuman eyes that stared straight back at her.

Tirans's wrath was calmed almost instantly, and a playful grin spread itself on his face. With his head cocked to the side he spoke in a devilish tone, "May i see your nightmares?" Tiran's hand dropped to the girl's neck, his thin fingers reached around her windpipe as if to choke her. But instead he used his thumb to push her chin up, "Please?" He begged, "Id like to see your fears, your deepest secrets." With raised eyebrows he stepped forward, making the gap between them even smaller.

Lessa didn't quite smile, but a faint suggestion of one was evident. The nearness of this stranger was intoxicating, and she felt braver and more there than she felt when she was alone. They were so close she had to tilt her face upward to maintain eye contact, and the feeling of his hand on her neck sent pleasant shivers coursing through her body.

"I can't tell you anything until I know your name," She teased, a mischevious twinkle glinting in her dark eyes. Despite her gentle appearance Lessa had an impish streak that she rarely indulged as well as a sarcastic wit that hardly appeared, since she was taught that such a thing was unbearable for a woman to have.

"My name belongs to someone else," Tiran said in a low dipressing tone, "And sadly, i am with out power to give it." The smile had vanished from him, and now it was evident that his emotions played on his face freely. Making him seem young and inexperienced, which was infact far from the truth. Tiran had many years under his belt, but his human face showed none of these and he passed as only a man of twenty or more. His voice especially, which was of sweet melody as he spoke. "But," Tiran snapped as he looked down upon the girl, "give me yours, and i will make one for you to call me by."

Lessa smiled, his teasing nature twisting everything he said into a riddle. "I am Lessa of Ingles," she quipped readily, stepping back slightly to widen the closing gap between them. A sheep bleated in the distance and she sighed, the unwanted reminder of her early work intruding on this dream-like night. Glancing at the moon hastily, she noted there were only a few hours left 'til morning.

Returning her attention to mysterious man, she arched an elegant eyebrow. "Well, you promised me a name in return for my own," she said expectantly, masking her curiousity with mock disdain.

"That i did," He said mirroring her expression with a chuckle, "and you may call me Noir." Tiran leaned forward as she took her step, raising his second brow. "Does that make you happy, Ms Lessa of Ingles?" The wind picked up again, but only slightly, and Tiran stood still grinning while his hair pasted around his face.

The wind's fingers ran through her curls, her auburn locks fluttered out of her face. Smirking, she replied decidedly, "Yes, it does make me happy, and just call me Lessa." She didn't know why she associated herself with a town that continually rejected her for something she had no control over. Just thinking about the small village made her feel angry, and her face grew serious as she thought.

Lessa shook her head slightly to dispel those thoughts. Running a hand through her hair, she said teasingly, "So, now that I know your name, I'll tell you something about myself. What do you want to know?"

"Humm?" Tiran hummed, "Oh yes, a question." Smiling, he seemed to ponder while beaming with a cheerful light in his eyes. "Your fathers name," he said rather musicly, "Yes, that is what id like to know." He raised a finger in the air, pointing up at the night sky. "Its not every day a young girl, such as yourself, goes out on a night like this. Excpecially when someone like me is around, id like to know who would raise such a child." Tiran's crooked finger curled back down, fisting his hand he dropped it to his side. " Remember young Lessa, you promised to tell me anything." Tiran's expression was one of mischief, and again he spoke lies. "In all my years, i have never met a father who is so freckless with his girl, to think what might happen to her." He again took a step toward her, "Imagine the people she could meet, and the things she cound influence." Tiran let out a short laugh at his last word, seemingly pleased.

"My father's name is Stephan, and he is somebody who cares far more for his five sons than his un-marraigeable daughter," she scoffed, a deep resentment harbored in her heart. "To be completely honest, I think the reason he lets me do as I please is a sincere hope that I won't return home in the morning." Lessa thought for a moment, debating whether she thought the last statement was true, could she influence anyone, really? A useless girl rejected by her family and ignored by the villagers she had grown up with had very little chance to see if it were true.

"Five?" Tiran boasted, "My my, are you the youngest? Do you have talent? How unusual.." He seemed to loose his poise while chattering on, as he reverted back to his boyish days, Tiran flushed with questions. ".. And unmarried, why that just wont do. Why would a father resent his daughter so much?" He again stepped forward obviously unaware of proper distance. "Now my father, he adored my sisters. He would... ah." Tiran stopped suddenly, and just about swallowed his tongue. His face became a pale color, and his eyes widened as he shuddered from within. Tiran raised his head quickly, looking beyond the girl to the grassy fields. His chin dropped then clamped shut in a second, Tiran's undaunted nature vanished and now he stood like a frightened child.

Lessa enjoyed listening to him talk, the bitterness slowly abating to the tide of his happy chatter. Their closeness seemed natural, the usual taboo's of personal space stripped away. She actually enjoyed being near someone, she was so isolated most of the time. The abrupt change of Noir's emotions startled her, he seemed so vulnerable all of the sudden.

Lessa reached up to brush the hair out of his face murmuring, "What's wrong?" trying to comfort him like she would her littlest brother. She saw how his fearful gaze looked straight past her into the open meadow and slowly turned to see what could approach them that could frighten him.

A figure draped in shadows aproached them, the sight of it sent chills down a Tiran's back and his hands now trembled. It walked smoothly, as if two snakes had possessed its hidden feet. The grass under it moved only slightly, like being pushed by a small breeze. But, remarkably, the figure left no tracks in the thick mud, and seemed to float along the feild.

As the deadly silence grew longer, the figure made its way closer, and the closer it got, the easier it was to see the toothy smile on its face. This smile was though different from the one Tiran had flashed earlier. This figure had a smile so lethal it made your blood run cold, and you were forced to only watch because your feet were planted where they stood.

Lessa huddled against Noir as every instinct screamed at her to run, but she felt like a frozen block of stone. Time seemed to slow down as the figure approached, and Lessa's mind finally managed to get her body to move. Just as the figrure smiled she shouted, "Run! Run fool, if it comes closer we're dead!"

She snatched Noir's arm and ran as fast as she could, her legs pumping powerfully as she dragged a startled Tiran behind her. Her only thought now was escape, and she didn't even pay attention to where she was going until she almost stumbled over a tree root. Glancing around Lessa realized they had escaped into the Deep Woods, surrounded by towering oak trees with spanish moss hanging down an swaying in the breeze.

Gasping, Tiran finally pulled out of his hypnotized state. "Uh.." he muttered, "... I -" He seemed unable to hold any two words together, his teeth chattered from his trembling chin. He was hurled over, with his hands gripping tightly to his knees. " I have to go back," he finally weezed painfully, "Bell and Vida, she'll try and kill them." He raised his head only slightly, locking his yellow eyes with hers. "Listen," he almost whispered, "Larue is powerful, and i need all my strength back." There was silence for a while, before Tiran pressed his lips together. " You know what i am, do you not?" His voice was reserved, and Tiran stood poised once again. "Lessa," he spoke to her, "You know dont you?"

Lessa nodded, and murmured quietly, "I knew when I first saw you," her eyes, downcast for a moment, gazed back into his. She didn't know who Bell or Vida was, but she heard the urgency in his voice, so they must be important. Lessa looked up at the sky, the moon partially hidden by the trees. "Do it," she said flatly, pulling her curled, tangled hair off her neck, and she stepped closer toward him. She disconnected herself from the events taking place and observed with a corner of mind, realizing this was going to change her forever.

With a gentle smile Tiran wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her close. "Once i take from you, I must do it every night." He lightly ran a tumb along her neck, removing what was left of her curls. "If i dont, your body will begin to devour itself." He tightened his grip on her, forcing his nails into the soft skin along her back. "I wont turn you, so dont you dare worry, you will still see the sun" With one quick movement, Tiran had locked onto her hair, gripping it in a strong fisted hand. He pulled on her strands, twisting her neck forward and free. "I am truely sorry, but i thank you for your kindness."

Lessa let herself relax in his firm hold and inhaled the breeze that carried the scents of the forest. "I understand, and no thanks is required," she murmured in reply. The moon was growing dimmer and the stars were glimmering less brightly than they had been before.

Morning is coming soon, she thought dismally, then I will have to work. An idea sparked; she realized she could herd the sheep by the castle. Before this night the ruin always felt forbidden, but now she knew who dwelled within, and the terrain she could explore would make the day far more interesting.

His gental lips suckled lightly at her troat, they caressed her velvet skin gently until finding a spot they favored. Tiran's lips moved as if self-directed, and seemed to indulge in their deliciouse work. Opening, inside were teeth as smooth as glass and Tiran quickly, almost irrepressibly, empaled her neck with them. But through this barbaric show, Tiran skillfully and gentally held her to him. He had control and knew that his bite was painful, so by holding her in such a tangle he kept her from stuggling. Becuase even the slightest twitch could make his fangs slice deeper, and maybe by accident, kill her.

Tiran began to draw the sweet nector from her, absorbing anything and everything that passed his lips. His breath became rhythmatic and with every soffocating breath Tiran consumed another mouthful of blood.

Lessa didn't cry out as the sharp fangs painfully pierced her skin, she had endured worse than this before. She only allowed one small tear to fall, then bit her own lips and waited in silence. The tear rolled slowly down her cheek then ran down the length of her neck, leaving a shining path that reflected the faint moonlight.

Breathing deeply, she forced herself to relax, then closed her eyes and retreated deep inside herself, her mind becoming a deep, still pool. She let herself drift slowly to the bottom, where no stray distractions could force her to recognize the pain.

Tiran was impressed by the girl's absence of pain, his open eyes followed the path of her lonely tear. It left a twinkling path under his nose, and as Tiran pulled away from her, he couldnt help but stretch out his tongue for the water pearl. But even before his tongue absorbed the salty liquid, Tiran's pale face had begun to take up a wonderful peach color. His lips turned a soft rose petal tone, and his cheeks a cherry red. Life began to grow from inside him, and Tiran took on a more human look. He no longer appeared to be a pale ghost, but a young well-nourished man. Though, still his eyes had never changed, they were, as always, that same fire yellow.

He now lowered Lessa into the tall damp grass, placing her down as softly as he could. He knelt over her, with one hand beside her head, tangled in her curls, and the other clutched almost lovingly to her now pale chin. Tiran spoke her her sofly and sadly, "I took to much..." He whispered, "Lessa, Lessa answer me please." He bent down further, touching her ear with his lips. "Thank you... " Tiran whispered to her, in a broken voice, "But, now you must stay here. Do you understand? I know you can hear me Lessa, Stay here." Panic was in the air again, and those few moments of pleasure, when Tiran drank from her, where no longer remembered, vanished.

"Lessa," He hissed threw sharp teeth, "Lessa, answer me."

Lessa blinked slowly, expecting to see her father peering at her angrily, but was relived to find it was a worried Noir hovering over her. With this recognition came the recognition of a staggering pain and dizziness."I'll be alright, don't worry..." she said, pausing to take a gasp of air that seemed to slice her throat open, as if she had been running for too long.

"I have to get home, or my father will get angry," she said, as panic set in at the thought. "Oh God, I left my brother alone with him, I-" Lessa's eyes grew wide with suprise at a sudden pain that overcame any other sensation, it felt like everything holding her body together was being torn apart, like someone ripped out the seams of her body. A black rush of dots overcame her vision and unconciousness overcame her overwrought form.

Tiran forced a crooked smile to his lips when he saw Lessa emerge from her sleep. His long raven hair fell forward between them, mixing itself with her chestnut waves. "You'll be fine," he assured her, "Just, try not to talk."

Putting a hand to her chest Tiran spoke softly, "I havent the time Lessa, Im sorry. But in truth, my dear Bell and Vida mean more to me than your poor little brother." Tiran let out a deep painful sigh, "A vampire rarely cares for humans Lessa, that is my first lesson to you. I can apologise a millions times, but my heart will never be in my bitter words."

Tiran stood quickly when he saw that she had fanted, he had pushed himself up from the hand he held at her chest. And now he watched her for only a moment, seemingly contemplating over a small matter. But soon the wind began to blow again, and Tiran became unusually aware of the surounding he had forgotten. "My second lesson," He whispered more to himself than to the girl laying at his feet, "Is that a vampire only feels peace, eternal peace, when he feeds."

Lessa didn't hear Noir's contemplative monolouge, but remained in the world of unconciousness. Her body was changing, shifting from within without her knowledge or Noir's. Her lithe form gave no apparent changes, but had her eyes been open their color would have changed from a light brown to rich deep blue, the color of a deep night sky. If she smiled, the faintest suggestion of pointed canines would have been discovered. But sadly, these changes were un-noticed by either of them as she continued to slumber on the forest floor.

Finally, Tiran began to put distance between himself and the girl. Each step he took was closer and quicker then the last. In this way his feet began to move at a rapid speed, much faster than when young Lessa had dragged him. Now as he ran not a branch moved out of place, and as before when the drapped figure had come to them, he looked as if he was also foating threw the grass and trees.

Tiran also began to wonder about Bell and Vida, and as he did a deep hate developed inside him.

Lessa stirred, then blinked slowly. As soon as she came out of her sleepy daze, she realized what had happened. Running her tongue across her teeth, she felt the sharp fangs scrape softly against it. She stood quickly, and realized she had transformed enough to heighten her senses. Peering into the distance, she caught sight of Noir running at the edge of the forest. Cursing, she tried to decide what to do, then made up her mind. She sprinted back to her house at the edge of a village, then tiptoed inside. Quietly, she went to her little brother's bed and scooped the little boy into her arms.

"Shh, shhh, we're getting you out of here," she crooned to the sleeping one year old stirring in her arms. Balancing him on her hip, she ran out of the house and back into the woods where she had been sleeping. Leaning on a sturdy tree trunk, she sighed as her brother, William, nestled against her, completely unaware of the world around him.

Tiran's golden eyes traced the tree lines as he passed, he was searching frantically for the familiar shape of his castle. Also, he held his jaw tight, fearing that his own breathing would block the sound of his vassels. Behind him was only the sound of his clothes rustling, and small hushed chirps from crickets and field mice. His clad shoes sank into the mud from both the strength in his steps, and from the dampness of the soil.

Tiran was able to spot his keep and even before he had reached the thick rose bushes that encircled it, he noticed that the large iron door was cracked slightly. The fracture in the iron ran from one large handle up to the ingraved blossoms, that were drawn around the boarder to imatate the field in mid spring.

He slowed his footing and stopped just short of the castle door. Tiran's face played his emotions once again, showing a mix of fear and pure hate. Confusion also took hold of him, Tiran took a step as if to enter the tower in full confidence, but quickly he changed his mind.

Lessa closed her eyes and remembered the first time she had transformed, when she met her mother. We she turned thirteen, her mother had appeared to her one night, smiling.

"Hello Lessa," she had said gently, "I have much to tell you." She recognized the woman instantly, even though she hadn't ever seen her before. "Mama? Mama, what is happening to me! I'm so confused," she asked frantically, seeking help anywhere she might find it. In the same, soft voice, her mother told her the story of how she was born.

Lessa's mother was a witch, and she had appeared before her father during the winter solstice. As was apt to happen, her father became infatuated with the mysterious woman, who disappeared after they had made love. Her father pined after the witch until she reappeared, holding Lessa in her arms. He had thought she would stay with him after that, but he soon discovered his folly. After her mother had gone, the man developed a hatred for his lovely daughter, whom he knew had inherited some of her mother's powers.

Lessa was abused and shunned by the other villagers because they knew she was a b*****d child, concieved on a mystical night. The rest followed sure enough, her father remarried and had many sons, the youngest now sleeping in her lap. Sadly, the young boy's birth had been complicated, and his mother died in childbirth. Lessa loved little William dearly, and her father despised him as well. So now they were runaways with nowhere to go except the forest, which no humans dared enter.

Inhaling a slow quivering breath, Tiran felt a rush of forgotten memories enter his panic-stricken mind. Memories that he had ignored for decades, and more. Ones that caused heartache and regret. Ones that made him feel human again, and when he was human, it was the worse time of all. Worse than pain, worse than death, it was pure savage loneliness. "This," Tiran managed to whisper a few blank words, just as his shoes slipped in the mucky soil. "...just like before..." Falling backwards was like being thrown back in time, he could feel just as he remembered. Every sensation was crystalline, clear, and real.

Staggering home after a long night of drinking, and trying to forget all 4 of his lost sisters. Tiran had found it odd that the door to his humble home was ajar, and that the handle was cracked completely. But fear had not over came him, instead thinking that whomever had robbed him was long gone by now, Tiran felt the same as always, empty. Unfortunatly, his reasoning couldnt be more wrong. In fact the person, or say thing, that had penetrated his lodge was still inside and waiting.

After Tiran had taken many intoxicated steps into his dull cave, he suddenly became aware of a dark shadow looming over his right shoulder. He turned quickly, seeing a crooked smile out of the corner of his eye but saw nothing. Confused, he saw the same grin, but now out of the other eye, over the other shoulder. Turning in circles Tiran couldnt get the figure into his sight, and the more he turned the dizzier he got. Soon he found himself on the floor, covered in vomit and sweat. A wave of wicked laughter filled the room, but Tiran was sick from his excited and tense twirls that he couldnt move. The phantom appeared now, before him, standing just above his nose. And just as quickly as it appeared, it lay atop him now. Tiran hollored from the pain that filled him, were it came was unknown, the only thing he knew was that now the darkness from the apparition covered him in sheets. And that was painful, it was ripping him apart from the insides.

Lessa was jolted out of her memories when another shooting pain jolted her from her toes to her scalp. It lasted for only a couple seconds, then faded away, and Lessa knew she has completely transformed now. Her hair was a blue black, flowing past her shoulder in soft curls, mussed and tangled. The small fangs in her mouth sharpened slightly, and her suntanned skin seemed to glow faintly, as if she was lit from within. She could now see clearly in the forest despite the almost tangible darkness that swallowed the two reclining figures.

She heard a faint rustle, and goosebumps crawled across her skin. She knew another being of the night was approaching, and she peered suspiciously into the darkness. It was a passing specter, probably someone who had died in the woods. It merely drifted by harmlessly, it's floating form barely visible. Lessa's powers were coming in handy, without them she would't have seen the ghost at all.

That short memory ended with the sensation of Tiran falling flat on his rump. He gasped in surprise, and immediately a quick hand clamped desperately to his neck. It took a while for Tiran to realize that his neck didnt have a scratch, his fingers fumbled around his collar, still searching but there was nothing. With tempted eyes, Tiran looked up into the darkened door way.

He pictured Larue from when he had last saw her, when he had made that dangerous bargain, does she still look the same? He asked himself foolishly, Of course, vampires do not change, she looked just as i did then and do now. His thoughts seemed to calm him, and when Tiran was ready he lifted himself from the ground. He didnt bother to wipe the mud off his legs and shoes, he simply walked in now, full of that same dullness as before.

There was a small but heavy rustle in the trees where Lessa sat, the sound of stressed breathing and a chian were faint, but close. Leaves crushed under the four-footed animal, and the large wolven like dog stood before her. In a gruff voice the animal spoke, "You stink of that wretched vampire," it said in a growl, "Are you another one of those girls, the ones he collects? Those who look like his preciouse sisters?" The beast took a step forward with it's head cocked, "No, you do have the curls, but my dear, his sisters had black or golden blond hair."

The dog didnt wait for Lessa to speak, and cared none for her emotions, it turned its back to the girl and child. "You are mythical, i can smell it." He took long strides untill he reached a far off tree, "I will sit here till my Master returns with him, and you will wait with me." The hound sat with a thump, and his human like eyes watched Lessa quietly.

Lessa quirked and eyebrow at the dog's indifference, but didn't bother to make any objections. She knew the dog was watching her, then stared straight back, unblinking. William stirred slightly in his sleep, and his murmuring was the only thing that broke the silence. Lessa absentmindedly stroked his hair, the dirty blond curls felt like silk between her fingers.

Her curiousity got the better of her and she asked, "Do you have a name?" She realized dog would probably remain silent, but she didn't really mind.

"Yes," he said almost instantly, "But my name is not mine to give. When my Master returns you may ask her, if she will give it to a lowly creature like yourself, i do not know. But you may ask, if you wish." His words were cut, and only his mouth moved. The rest of his body, including his massave curled tail, were completely frigid.

Lessa took in the information without response, it was clear that the animal before her preferred silence to conversation. William's squirming turned to thrashing, he was caught in a nightmare. She murmured softly and stroked his back, comforting him until he settled back into his deep slumber. It was probably better he stayed asleep until she could answer his questions somewhere where he wouldn't be frightened.

"Amazing," said the wolf emotionless, "Such a young girl and yet your arent scared of me." He eyed the child and as he did a rumbling laugh coughed up his troat, "If he wakes up, ill tell him a story." The laughter shook his body even more, "It'll be about that b*****d vampire, and how i came to know him." His laugh echoed in the leaves, "But thats only if he is awake, and looking right at me. Dont you want to hear my recollection?"

Lessa looked up, a spark of interest glimmering in her eyes. "Yes, I would, if you don't mind," she replied politely. She knew what fear was, it was a tool that enemies used against you. The more afraid you are, the easier you are hurt. After she had learned this lesson many times over, she dismissed the emotion. Lessa would concentrate on something completely different and lose herself until she knew she was safe, until she knew fear couldn't touch her. After practicing the technique enough, she only needed a brief distraction and the fear would dissolve away, so she remained alert and calm, ready to deal with the situation.

Lessa waited patiently for the animal to reply, her curiousity growing with every passing second.

"The child," he sneered, "must be awake, and i must sit infront of him."

Lessa sighed in exasperation, deciding to wake up William. The information could be helpful later, and she knew he was too innocent to be afraid of most things. Lessa leaned over him and whispered in his ear, "William, wake up and you will hear a story."

The boy awoke quickly rubbing his eyes with his small, chubby fists. "All you have to do is pay close attention to that wolf, and he'll tell us a story," she explained patiently, acting as if there was nothing unusual about it. William turned, fixing his eyes hungrily on the dog, his rapt attention showing no fear or confusion.

The beast stood the instant little William set his eyes, "Such innocence," he said longingly, "It’s been quite a while since someone has looked upon me with such eyes." A sudden kindness overcame his wolven eyes, "May i, sit by him?" He asked politely, searching Lessa's face for sympathy.

Lessa nodded, deciding to trust the dog. William smiled up at the animal, his eyes twinkling. "Story?" he asked simply, it was one of the few words he could say. He reached out with a small hand, beckoning the dog to come closer, perfectly comfortable with it.

Lessa watched silently as William made friends with the dog, his innocent nature always had a way of winning people over.

The giant wolf treaded quietly to the infants out stretched hand, and gently placed his soaked nose in the boy's palm. "I dont know much," He spoke softly, “As you have guessed i am just the ears, i have no voice and no name." He then curled at Lessa's feet, speaking almost in a whisper but never loosing sight of the boy. "It’s a very long story, and im afraid that the way i tell it... well, it looses its mood. I am a very simple animal, and not one for feelings. So, if you need me to explain in more detail just ask."

Lessa replied softly, "its fine. Just tell me what you know, and I'll ask if I don't understand." She really needed an objective story, without bias or spin to try and win her over or scare her away, and that is what the dog was offering.

The dog took a breath before starting, “Well, from what i know that brain dead moron had four sisters, and all of them had curly hair, like yours. Only that three of them were blonds and the other had midnight raven hair. His father had two wives, the same, one was blond the other black. The father had those curls too, but it's a mystery why that poor vampire ended up with long strait hair. A curse to him actually, from what i hear his father treated him different because of it, treated his mother different too." The dog nuzzled the boy playfully, "And back then all that mattered was for his sisters to get married, and they did, all of them. Each and everyone, the father even left with them, all that was left in that damn old house was him and his mother. She was dieing too, poor soul... "

William giggled when the dog nuzzled him, then threw his little arms around its neck in a playful embrace. He nuzzled the dog right back, laughing as the thick fur tickled his face. Lessa watched contentedly, glad William was having fun as she listened to the dog's story. When the story trailed off, she gestured for the dog to continue, if it could.

"Well, as I hear," the dog continued, "only two of his sisters ever came to visit him. And only then it was for a few hours, every three months. Their husbands were ruthless and cared only or their own wealth. Those two sisters had to sneak money to their brother, it was a sad attempt to save the mother, you see. And in fact, the gold they did manage to pass couldn’t even buy her a doctor’s visit. So, soon Tiran's mother died, forcing him into a deep depression. That’s when my Master stumbled upon him, when he had been lost to the human drugs. He was indeed a pitiful sight, delusional even. It was easy for my Master to take him and then leave him for dead. But the poor fool was a strong one, he lived long enough for the village to create rumors about him, he was the man with a strange illness. An illness that forced his limbs to burn, and caused his neck to rot," another laugh echoed from the beast's round belly, "Humans are such stupid creatures, what human illness could cause that? Ha. Nothing, that’s what," The creature humored himself by shaking his massive head in the child's arms.

Lessa smiled in agreement, and watched William giggle delightfully as he played with the dog, as if he were a puppy. Well, grown humans are foolish, but the children know better, she amended in her mind. She wondered briefly who this animal's master was, and what to expect from him, or her. While dog and child played, she peered into the distance, her sight becoming keen as an eagle's. The ancient trees stubbornly blocked her view, but she soon caught sight of a figure far off in the distance.

The canine looked up at Lessa with its large brown eyes, "That’s nothing to fear, just another ghost. That vampire has killed many here, and so, there will be many here. If I hear footsteps you'll be the first to know."

Meanwhile, Tiran had entered through the large castle door unscathed and now climbed up the same coiling staircase, listening for the slightest noise in anticipation. He noticed that the candles which hung along the moldering walls had been blown out, forcing Tiran to use his unnatural trait. His vampire eyes could see clearly in night, and they focused easily on his footing and the space around him. But the chill that had nestled itself inside Tiran’s chest earlier wouldn’t leave, it made him feel cold, and frozen to the world. It was cold fear that crept from him now, but his strength to find Bell and Vida kept him going. And threw clenched teeth Tiran made it to the showroom, where a demonic aura seemed to flow from under the closed door.


Lessa smiled, and replied, "Thank you, I know that the ghosts won't hurt me, but I'm not accustomed to seeing them. You've been very patient, explaining things to me." Lessa was grateful; the information gave her some perspective on the whole situation. She was still curious about who the dog's master could be, but she figure she would find out soon enough. The stars were beginning to fade and the moon was nearing the end of its journey across the night sky. Soon, morning would come and her father would wake up to find them gone.

“As I said,” the dog pulled himself up now, eyeing the child as he squirmed to reach for the shaggy creature, “Those rumors reached my Master’s ears, and both she and I were amazed at how long that human had lived. You see, usually a human dies within two days of being bitten, because the body is so frail it begins to devour itself. But he, he had lived for a whole week, which was, and still is, unheard of in the supernatural world…”

Try as he might Tiran couldn’t make out any sound within his home, outside the birds had began to stir. And their cheerful songs echoed within the castle, bouncing threw the rooms and masking any other sound. Tiran cringed at the light that shown in threw the windows, the light being far to humble for any human to see, but to Tiran, it was as if the sun had risen already. He could feel the burn on his skin as he stood with his back to the light.


Lessa finally decided to voice one of the questions bouncing around in her head, after hearing this information. "Why does the body, ah, devour itself after being bitten?" She always wanted to know why things happened, a characteristic that William also showed. Why had actually been his first word. Lessa smiled at the memory, she had been the first one to hear him talk.

“I don’t know for sure,” the hound replied delicately, “But remember, I am a simple creature and tend not to think things threw. I say what I know, and that’s all.”

Suddenly the dog seemed distracted, his silk ears stood straight atop his head and his heavy tail halted its movement in the damp grass. He was hearing a sound so soft, only the ears of a werewolf could pick up its pitched sound.

Tiran tugged harshly on the door, releasing it from its wooden frame. The rusted hinges creaked from the lack of use and even crumbled slightly onto the stone floor. Tiran tightened his grip on the silver knob, his black hair frozen to the sweat that had formed along his brow. Words escaped his lips as his eyes caught sight of a shadowed figure sitting in one of the luxurious couches, “Master,” he said in a passionate tone.


Lessa quieted, and shushed her brother softly. She could tell the animal was trying to hear something, and she was pretty sure his giggling was making it harder. Out of curiosity, she listened too, but heard nothing except the rustling of trees in the breeze. At the long pause, she wondered if Tiran had managed to save Bell and Vida, like she had saved her brother.

Stepping into the doorway, Tiran was able to focus his eyes quickly. He saw that on the couch sat his Master Larue, and that she was wearing one of her usual gowns. This gown was like many others she owned, and Tiran remembered each of them well, this one was black and had silver charms stitched carefully into the breast. Each tiny charm reflected the light from the flaming candles that surrounded her, making her pale skin glow with rows upon rows of shimmering light. Larue’s face was beautiful, no doubt about it, her face held delicate futures that could lure any man into her arms. Her eyes were an intoxicating blue, which could shame even the sky and her lips were like rose pedals. Tiran gaped at her in a trance, it had been years since he had last seen her. Larue seemed to have grown more stunning over the last hundred years, or simply, Tiran had forgotten how gorgeous she was.

The silence was broken quickly, as Larue spoke threw a devilish smile, “Tiran, my drear, where have you been?” Tiran tried to speak, but was caught in her sweet voice.

He quickly directed his sight but there was no sign of Bell or Vida, this gave Tiran the small hope that they both had found a place to hide, or at least, had been able to run from the castle. But this hope was crushed as he saw that Larue’s long delicate fingers held a crystal cup to her lips, and the liquid inside the glass was a deep scarlet color. Tiran could only wish it was one of his wines that filled that cup, and not one of the girls.


Lessa sat quietly, enjoying the calm silence of the still forest. William had settled comfortable on the leafy forest floor and was staring up at the distant treetops, and the wolf remained still and alert. She relaxed slowly, her mysterious navy eyes gazing into the middle distance as her mind wandered.

“Tiran,” her voice rang again, “Come here, dear.”

Tiran obeyed instantly but slowly, he took his time to think out each action as he moved. He turned from her first, making sure to close the door behind him, ignoring her eyes that burned like the sun on his back. The showroom was famous, it was in the middle of the castle, and had no windows. Tiran had taken extra precautions on the renovation of this room actually, he had made the girls lather up the walls with thick tar before having it painted that blood red color. This insured that no light was to enter the room, and no sun light meant that he was able to move around freely as if time itself had stopped. In this room one couldn’t tell night from day, it was indeed the prefect vampire sanctuary. It also had a set of steal locks lining the door, which Tiran fastened now. He did this because he feared that young Lessa might try to enter the castle, and if not Lessa then his Master’s wretched dog. Having the room secure was the best way, in Tiran’s mind, to keep out any unwanted visitors. Tiran could feel Larue smile as he did this, but again ignored the alarming feeling and finished switching each lever, until he was satisfied.

Through this, Larue remained patient, she continued to sip from her wineglass and smile at Tiran who finally looked upon her. Tiran had his hands behind him, still clasped to the last lock he had held. His fingers dared to let go of the cold steal, and his back the same, he had his shoulders pressed hard to the door, like a child. “You’re just as I remember,” she said to him in a sweet voice that made Tiran twitch slightly, “just as hansom as ever.” Larue set her glass down on the table nearest to her, the table was covered in a dozen candles that flickered in response. “Come here Tiran, please.”


Lessa watched as William's eyes grew heavy with sleepiness, as he slowly drifted back into slumber. His long eyelashes lay perfectly against his dirty, chubby cheek, and a small fist was nestled against his face. She gathered him up into her lap again and stroked his curly hair absentmindedly.


“Humans,” the wolf eventually spoke, “two of them.” He cocked his head to the side, thrusting one of his ears high in the air, “Yes, only humans. But as you did, they smell of that vampire.” The dog began to walk away from Lessa, its footing much softer than before, so that not a sound was made. “I must leave now, you are not of importance. Stay here and don’t get in my way.” The hound’s words were again cut and said in a deep jagged voice.


Lessa didn't reply. Her silence was enough to show she despised being told what to do, and despite her friendly nature, she refused to reply. When the wolf went the other way, she waited until it was out of sight. As soon as it had faded into the distant woods, Lessa rose, completely silent. She padded soundlessly through the forest, William on her hip, until she reached a different small clearing with a small pond.

She placed William carefully on the grass and caught sight of her reflection in the still pool. Lessa felt dirty, and seeing her scruffy face staring back at her, she made a quick decision. She slipped off all her clothes and jumped into the pond, enjoying the feeling of the cool water against her skin. Ducking her head completely under, she felt weightless, with her hair floating around her like an aureole.

Tiran was covered in a light sweat, his shoulders tensed as he forced his fingers to release the lock they held. The lock fell with a small metallic thump, and its color was darkened and damp from Tiran’s moist hands. He began to rub his fingers together, his thumb rubbing softly into the side of his first finger, twisting his large ring and its gem into endless circles. Tiran gulped down the ball that had wedged itself in his throat, and began to take step after step to Larue. She casually held one of her delicate hands out to him, her painted nails were long and sharp, but Tiran wasn’t phased and took her hand swiftly. His face was set now, Tiran tired to use all his vampire ability to keep emotion from his face. He bent his body to reach her skin with his tender lips, the kiss was quick but made Larue’s smile quiver with passion.

“It’s been a while,” she said pulling on his hand, “and I’ve missed you.” Her sad angelic voice hung in the air, changing Tiran’s mood completely. She seemed small now, and he was now the dominate one. Larue managed to drag Tiran next to her, she held his hands tightly and leaned closer to him. Tiran, however, avoided her eyes the best he could, he even turned his face from her, seeking safety in the candle flames. Larue seemed hurt by this and clasped his chin, forcing him to look at her. Her face was filled with a young emotion, painful seduction is what it was. “Tiran,” she whispered, “don’t you love me anymore?” This caught his attention immediately and Tiran reached up, removing her hand from his face. He looked at her with dull, cold eyes. It was a vampire glare, and with strands of his hair fallen into his face, his gaze was even more demonic.

“I don’t recall,” He said in a frozen voice, “that I ever once told you that I loved you.” Larue almost gasped, but instead she pulled her hands from him with a painful expression. She was the one to look away now, tying to avoid his eyes, but it was only to hide the tears.

“Your right,” she spoke to the candles with a weeping smile, “its all been… an illusion, only my little fantasy.” In her lap her fingers fumbled with one of the silver jewels, and again she tired to speak through a coy laugh “You’ve been the only one who can make me feel this way.” She smiled to herself, she laughed at the tears and sobs that shook her body.

But all Tiran did was watch her struggle with her words, he didn’t try to comfort Larue, he didn’t lift a finger. In fact, he couldn’t if he wanted to. Tiran had found it that he felt nothing for Larue, it was utterly impossible. She had been the one to change him, to take his life, to kill him. And neither her beauty nor tears could change the hate he held in his heart. Tiran had cursed her name the day his heart stopped, and did now as she fought to calm her human emotions.

When Lessa's lungs felt as though they could burst, she swam up, her head breaking through the surface of the silvery water. William still lay sleeping in the grass, and she slowly climbed out of the water and stood perfectly still. The wind caressed her bare skin, and the gentle dawn lit the edge of the horizon. Its pink light mixed with the silver water dripping off her body, and she could almost be mistaken for a goddess, serene and still, her bare skin glowing in the new light. Lessa, unaware of the beauty, began washing her dirty clothes in the pond until all traces of dirt were gone, then put on the soaking garments, feeling them slowly release their clinging hold against her body as they dried.

The werewolf trotted swiftly and almost flew threw the tangled woods. His muzzle hung low, catching every scent and forcing him to turn sharply along his invisible path. His movements were fast and rough, but oddly the chain around his neck made no sound. It hung tightly to his chest, pressing into his thick hide and dampening from his sweat. Even his breath was shortened and soft, but the devil hound seemed a bit worried. And his nervousness flickered in his eyes like a dieing candle, and he started to quicken his pace to match the raising sun.

Unfortunately for him, the dark animal could no longer blend into the land, the trees and bushes began to turn a soft light filled green, even the grass began to shine. And as darkness slowly crept from the earth, it left the ragged beast in a pool of growing sunlight. He stood there now, motionless, in one of the few open places where the trees would not grow. He seemed in pain however refused to make a sound. And as he held his tongue his posture changed, his body begun to swell and stretch viciously. His teeth became flat and human like, his legs buckled from under him. The pitiful beast fell flat with a whimper and let out a tragic howl. Dull cracks and groans echoed form his weary body as his bones were forced to reposition themselves. The thick hair that covered him retreated into the pours of his skin, hissing as they stabbed into place. But his ears remained atop his head, being the last to change. They stood upright until everything was rebuilt, and only when his head had fully formed did they begin to round and drop.

His face was no longer the face of a savage creature, but the face of a man. And his body no longer resembled the frame of a wild animal, but merely a standard human. What lay on the forest floor now could only be a man, and it was a handsome man at that. He had hair the color of tree bark, and skin so white that the scars which marked it seemed to glow. His hands were large but resembled the hands of a worker. And though unclothed, this man seemed to lie naturally on the small hill and be tranquil in his slumber.


Lessa heard the cry that twisted and clawed its way up into the sky. She didn't know why or how, but she had to find the owner of that cry. So she ran. She ran, forgetting her clothing, forgetting her brother, forgetting everything. Her feet pounded hard against the soft turf that slowly turned into a forest floor, covered with leaves and roots. Lessa didn't know how, or what happened, all she remembered was beginning to run and then stopping. She stood before the sleeping man and panted, trying to get the air to enter her lungs. Her hair fell over her like a thick dark curtain, covering everything except her long, pale legs that collapsed under her, and she sat as her heart returned to a normal pace.

The man at her feet had shallow breathing, and moaned with every heave of his bear shoulders. His eyes grew tense and his fists clenched, but he stayed dormant and sleeping. His short hair had bits of twig and mud meshed into it, some dirt was even smeared across his pale face. But he resembled nothing of the wolven creature he had been, only the chain around his neck could possibly link him. So they lay under the sun, its rays warming them both. And unusually the man wouldn’t wake from the heat, he just laid there fighting a phantom who lived in his dreams.

Lessa observed the man, and forgetting herself, reached over and gently ran her fingers through his thick hair, pulling out the leaves and twigs tangled in its locks. She felt the sunlight warm her skin pleasantly. She noticed the man's worried face and clenched fists, then realized he must be having a nightmare. Moved with an unexpected wish to comfort him, she placed a slender, calloused hand over his clenched one and stroked softly, willing the tenseness to leave him.

Instantly the man retreated from her real touch, he pulled his fist from her gentle hand and pushed himself to his knees in one simple movement. He hadn’t even regained full consciousness when he stood to glare her down, he was tall and stood about 6 feet, he blocked the sun completely from her face with his naked body. He downcast her with a fearsome scowl and spoke in a familiar voice, “I thought I told you to not to get in my way,” he said threw a clamped jaw.

Lessa was surprised for a moment, and as he stood her gaze trailed downward to the ground as a blush bloomed across her face. The voice jogged her memory, and she realized who the man must be. With the realization came the two things she had forgotten, her clothing and her brother. Rising gracefully, anger welled up in her to match the anger she heard. Looking into his eyes, she defiantly replied, "Well, I'm sorry I couldn't help but hear you howl, and I'm sorry my damned instincts took over and made me rush over here to try and help you. Next time I hear you cry like you've been attacked, I'll be sure to ignore it and go on like nothing happened," by now she was standing as tall as she could with her hands on her hips as she glared up at him.

Still the man was taller, and somewhat leaned over her as his face spread in a wicked smile. He laughed with the same crackling roar as before, “Only a fool would try to save someone who is neither their friend nor kin.” He grabbed her right arm with his large hand, his fingers curled completely around her small arm. The man had a grip like iron and he tugged her to him as he growled his words, “Do you have a death wish? Or are you just as stupid as you are kind?”