Damned If I Do

[Gwilym]

December 18th
2nd Hour
Year LV

Gwilym was jumping from rock to rock, thinking about death. He wore, as usual, his worn and muddied leather pants and nothing else -- so he had to take special care not to let his bare feet slip on the moss. To avoid the seemingly inevitable fall, he had shifted just enough to let the pads at the soles of his feet give him greater grip, and his toenails had elongated into quite terrible-looking mixtures between what was human and what was not.

He leaped quite suddenly onto the truck of a tree, scratching furiously with his claws to stay upon the wide trunk, and then once stable, began to climb. He was going to hunt soon. Gwilym had not hunted in too long, and he could feel the hunger eating away at his insides like an unpleasant parasite. Yet he was in the wrong place, and he knew it -- these ruins were always a risk, given that they were frequented by the enemy, and furthermore, it infringed upon the territory of a very powerful pack hereabouts. He would likely perish if he tried to take them... but he was hungry!

Perching finally about twenty feet off of the ground on a thick branch, the young male pressed his face into his palms.

Hungry. What a curse.

[Lillian]

The young woman moved silently within the ruins. It was her turn to keep watch in this area for those evil Gewin. Lillian’s deep blue eyes scanned the area silently, her black skirt swishing just a bit in the wind as she moved. She heard something in the distance, her ears pricking slightly. Lillian narrowed her eyes a moment as she started to move towards the faint sounds. She took a shallow breath and tugged slightly at her dark blue peasant blouse.

As she got closer she could smell it. That disgusting smell of a Gewin. It was like a mix between death and pure evil. At least that was how Lillian could describe it. “Reveal yourself!” Lillian demanded, stopping a few feet away from the source. Just because she couldn’t see anyone right away didn’t mean there wasn’t a Gewin here. A frown formed on her pale pink lips for a moment.

She wasn’t crazy, there was someone here, not just any someone either. Lillian stood still as a statue. The Gewin would either show itself or run. No matter what it did Lillian didn’t plan on letting it near the village.

[Gwilym]

Gwilym's head rolled back and his eyes drifted closed as he sniffed the air. He had to hold back his groan of disgust, bringing his claws down to grip into the branch on which he crouched. He remained still, listening, even though he knew that what he smelled would make no noise -- they hardly ever did. In fact, when he opened his eyes and looked down, he was surprised to see a head of dark red hair below. He wasn't expecting her voice to ring out so suddenly, so when it did, all of the muscles in his body tensed and bunched.

His teeth grew sharp and he bared them into the air, barely containing his anger. As if she had a right to be there, and he did not! As if she were coming upon an intruder in her home. This place was home to his ancestors, not hers, and not her precious humans. So what to do? Annoyance burned at his gut, urging him to attack, but he held himself back for now.

In spite of the tightly coiled anger ready to be flung, all teeth and claws, in the Guardian's direction, he was curious. He wanted to observe. It wasn't often that he was able to see a Guardian up close and in person in their human form, instead of in the form of a huge feline beast with ripping claws. He had to admit that she was beautiful -- but oh, the stench!

As she came directly beneath him, he had to decide quickly on what to do. Changing would put him in a better position to attack, but it would make enough noise as his bones cracked their way into place that it would remove the element of surprise... and she too being in her human form, it was not a huge disadvantage to simply attack her as he was.

His claws drew slowly, silently, from the tree branch... and then he make the leap, aiming to land on her back and bring her down quickly.

[Lillian]

“Animal!” Lillian shouted as she narrowly dodged the Gewin. She had heard him jump to attack, there was no way she was letting it attack her. She turned her icy glare on to the Gewin now. She took in his features briefly. He could almost be mistaken for one of her own, if it wasn’t for the god awful stench and his claws..and a few other minor things.

“You have no right to be in these parts!” Lillian hissed. This was Guardian territory and only a few miles off from the village. “This isn’t Gewin land.” She added, still glaring at him. She would attack if she had too, she was itching to attack. Lillian certainly had the grounds to attack since he had just tried.

Lillian narrowed her eyes again and then jumped toward him, almost like a tiger pouncing on to his prey. Her eyes and body language gave away her intent. She would fight him to the death if she had to, and she fully intended him to be on the losing end of the situation.

[Gwilym]

His feet made a light thud as he landed on the ground in a crouching position, cursing that he had missed her. The shock went up his legs and made his feet ache, but he felt that he could manage. She now stood a few yards distant, obviously preparing to pounce. He lifted his chin and stared into her eyes, a challenge written on his face. One corner of his mouth twitched up in derisive amusement, for what she had shouted seemed funny.

"Haven't I?" He called back, tensing his muscles as he prepared for her onslaught, which he was sure would be very sudden. "My forefathers might say the same for you," the way he spat the last word indicated that he meant more than just her, but her entire species. In a flash she was upon him, and he had to change quickly. He was tackled backward and his back slammed to the earth painfully, jarring him, but his bones still crackled and rearranged as he changed into his hybrid form, all within the span of a few seconds.

In this form he was larger and more powerful, but he would be much slower than she if she entered her large cat form. He hoped to finish it quickly before she would have the chance to shift, because then he would have a really nasty fight on his hands.

He growled, lunging his head forward to seize her neck in his jaws.

[Lillian]

Lilly hissed at him as him she jumped out of the way. He missed her neck but had managed to gash her arm. She gave him an icy glare as she hopped back to her feet. “You will be on the loosing end of this battle!” She promised. She quickly transformed, though she knew it wasn’t wise to do when she was wounded. Oh well, her front leg could suffer for a bit.

Of course Lilly probably could take him head on but that would be a slightly stupid decision with her injured leg, there were other ways of finishing this up. She hissed again and then darted into the woods. Her advantage was that she could slip through underbrush easily and make it harder for him to find her. In a way he had no choice but to follow her or leave, because if he went straight to the village he would come upon an ambush of Guardians.

If Lillian could lead him away from the village, making sure the villagers would be safe, she could finish him off. If not, well she had plenty of back up nearby. She came to a clearing that was a few miles farther away from the village and stood in the center, waiting. Her front right leg throbbed, but she shook it off and readied herself.

[Gwilym]

Gwilym's jaws closed around whatever flesh they could get and tore, though he was disappointed to feel an arm instead of a leg. He tugged, his sharp teeth cutting through her flesh, though she quickly extricated her limb from his teeth. Her weight left him, but he was momentarily stunned by the nauseating taste of her blood. She spat some threat at him, but he was too preoccupied to listen. His stomach rolled uncomfortably, but he held it down and leapt to his feet. Ah, too late. A huge ginger cat was in front of him, fierce as a tiger, with flashing blue eyes... and an injured front leg. That would do him good.

He howled, lunging forward, but the wily feline was much quicker and leapt away, bounding in a direction away from the village. Ah... always a dedicated worker. He turned quickly, down on his haunches and rushing after her. She was leaving a trail of blood. She was much faster than him, lithely slipping among the branches, some of which he had to break to follow her.

He kept his momentum, leaping out of the brush into the clearing without pause to attack, even though he wasn't head dead-on in her direction; he swung out one massive paw, claws extended, so that he might get in at least one good scratch.

[Lillian]

Lillian saw him coming and leap. She let out a low rumbling cat version of a growl. Instead of leaping to the side like any smart person would do, she jumped at him. She collided with him in mid-air bringing them both crashing down. She looked at him with fury in her eyes. His stench was nauseating but she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let him win. Her blood dropped on to his fur.

She made a move to slash at his stomach before rolling to the side. Lillian quickly got to her feet. A surge of pain went through her and she glared at her wounded leg as if to tell it to stop hurting. Of course it wouldn’t. She focused her attention the Gewin. It occurred to her that she didn’t know his name. Then again, did she really care? The answer to that question was..No.

(Sorry it’s not that great =/)

[Gwilym]

Gwilym was taken by surprise as she leapt upward toward him, smashing into him and driving him down to the ground. He roared, swiping one massive paw up at her face, aiming for her eyes -- they were glittering like blue jewels that hid a flame, and contained a hatred he was sure mirrored his own. The blood from her wounded leg dripped onto his fur, and he felt some of the warm, sticky fluid seep through his fur to lay against his skin.

He jerked to throw her off, but as he did he felt a searing pain rip through his middle. One quick glance at her gory claws -- he saw a bit of his own dark fur matted onto one of them, stuck to his blood -- as she rolled away and took a fighting stance told him that he was severely wounded. He didn't have to look down; he didn't want to. Better to just flee, heal, and... he rolled onto his paws, teeth bared in a snarl, though one great paw was held over his bleeding midsection. And remember her face.

With an angry roar, Gwilym turned and fled toward the deeper woods, away from the village, imagining the pale, pretty face he had seen before twisted into agony at the sight of a human victim. He would have that.

(It's fine! Sorry for the wait! I been a busy busy girl. She can either chase him or let him go; your choice.)