The dual-moons shine their bright beams of silver between the low hanging leaves of the decaying trees. A man with skin as pale as the moons themselves, and eyes as black as the night. With his hands in the pockets of his crimson coat, he marches forward with haste and purpose. His hat, just hiding his eyes. While, the ground is snow covered. The man walks as if he is weightless across the snow, leaving not one footprint in his path. He hears the sound of a stick break and he jumps into the tree above. Watching, waiting for HIS prey to reveal itself.
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An abnormally large and human-like wolf steps out from the tree line. As it comes to a stop, it stands on its hind legs and sniffs the surrounding area. Like a flash, the man drops out of the tree and swings his leg out, and as the toe of his boot is just about to strike the wolf; his vision is blocked by his hat. The man lands and looks up, there is nothing but dust fluttering away from where the werewolf once stood. As the silver toe-plate on the front of his boot glistens in the moonlight, the reflection shoots up into the man’s face as he cowers away from the light.
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“Ah, Fuck!” He exclaims as he falls to his knees, shaking from the pain. “That’s karma I guess. At least there’s one more of these feral beasts put to rest.” He pulls his hat down, struggling to stand again. After he pulls himself back up, he gazes forward into the tree line to recognize the town he’s gotten so acquainted with.
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As he limps his way back to town, he stumbles onto a brick sign labeled “Orcton” with “ton” being crossed out and “blood” being scribed by an old blood stain that is hardly visible.
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“Orcblood, they’re getting too close.” He snarls as he picks himself up and pushes himself to stumble into town.
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As the last vampire returns closer to the local inn, a man who sits on a rocking chair quickly stands and exclaims. “The Werewolf Hunter has returned!”
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Before the sentence can entirely leave the man’s mouth, a little girl barges through the front door and jumps down the old wooden steps. She places her hand on the man’s back. “You’re burning up..” She looks up to the man on the patio. “Go get my mother, tell her we need ice and pigs blood.” With a quick glance back down to the vampire, she states, “You’re going to be okay, Vyncint. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
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***
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Vyncint wakes up, sweating. His skin, still boiling with pain. The curtains are closed as the sunlight peaks out in the small opening.
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“I survived another night.. What a shock.” Vyncint stands up and waves his hand at the window, magically closing the curtains the rest of the way. He grabs a tall glass bottle that sits on his nightstand and the cork shoots out of its resting spot. He downs the whole bottle. “Pig blood. That girl knows me so well.” He says.
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Light floods into the dark room, but not sunlight. Instead, torchlight from the little girl carrying in another bottle of blood. Her mother steps in behind her and the both of them pull down their hoods revealing their orange and red fox-like ears that extend above their head.
“We weren’t sure you’d make it this time.” The mother says softly, wiping her bloody hands on her apron. “What did more damage this time, the moons or the wolves?”
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“Only sunlight makes me feel this shitty. Those werewolves wouldn’t be able to land a finger on me even if they wanted to, which they usually do. Marie, where is your sister? Is she running an errand? It’s not safe out there right now.” Vyncint says.
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“Roter will be back. Apparently, Kyoga’s daughter got chased out of Kynan. I’m surprised Princess Tanora got away. I wonder, does this have anything to do with the assassination of the King of Belden. I know for one thing, there’s no way I would be able to deal with that many guards alone.” Marie states as she places a cold wet cloth on Vyncint’s skin. He takes another swig of the bottle, wiping the blood off his top lip.
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“Finally, Tanora is no longer denying the truth. Tanora must know about King Windhelm’s death. And I’m sure Prince Corvex is on his way with an army now. It’s in his nature to do everything he can to avenge his father.” Vyncint says. “But what does Roter have to do with it?”
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Marie sighs. “I was told to not say anything, but you are a family friend. I trust you, Vyncint. Roter was Kyoga’s previous head maid. Roter is the only one that the bastard king paid instead of having enslaved. She took care of the other maids and did what she could. But, regardless. My sister may have been on his payroll, but she isn’t a monster like him. She is nothing like him. As to where she went, she wants to find and help Tanora take down Kyoga.”
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“Good luck to her. I want nothing to do with Tanora. Unless there is an actual reason for me, I won’t help her. This isn’t my fight.” Vyncint relays back. “Let’s hope for the sake of the citizens who would be collateral, that I don’t have to intervene. That pack of werewolves should be dealt with for a while. If any had survived, they will wait until their numbers come back. Before trying, knowing I’m here.”
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