Au Contrair, Kartrusia

[animosity!]

Kartrusia! Come back this instant! We will not tolerate thisthissinful behavior from you young lady! Your father will be called, and tomorrow, promptly after breakfast, there WILL be a meeting with Father Knisle."
Pfft. That's what she thought.

Kartrusia stormed from the head nun’s office, and down a long hallway with high arched ceilings. The type you would see in any old cathedral. After all, it was a church, and more importantly, Lady Miriam's Convent and Abbey for Misguided Girls. Kartrusia finally reached her room and slammed a solid oak door behind her with a bang that echoed though the entire floor. How unfair of that woman to even insult her with such banter about her father coming here over what? A food fight?! Yeah right. He put her in here for a reason. So he no longer had to deal with her tagging along on his demon hunts and the C.H.U.R.C.H high council members constantly nagging him to put her through an experimentation clinic for her “disease” as they called it.
As soon as the two girls that Kartrusia had roomed with had fallen back to sleep from being awakened by her annoying disturbance, she grabbed a small purple duffle from underneath her twin metal hospital pushcart of a bed and gathered her belongings. If it was a war the wanted with Rusia, it was a war they would get. By the time she reached the proper age and her powers fully took hold, she would be murdered. And by her own father’s elite team of enforcer’s of the supernatural.
Bag packed. Shoes slipped on and half trinket in hand, Rusia slowly opened the large window to the second story balcony and proceeded outside. With ease she hopped over the edge and hit the soft, well kept grass with a thud amplified by the still of the night. This frightened her slightly. Father Knisle’s window was placed just above her room, opened, and she knew if she didn’t move with much haste, soon he would be drawn from his bed to feed his curiosity of the night sounds.
Off she went along the edge of the Abbey, and over a tall privacy fence through a wooded area all the girls were forbidden to explore. She felt chills down her spin, nearly unearthly as she walked farther into the flora. And soon found herself, upon looking back, completely surrounded by overbearing trees and frightening visions in the night. The moon hung low and full and illuminated a large clearing with Rusia’s line of sight.
She felt her heart beat grow faster the closer and closer she came to the clearing, and once she finally made it to the last thin stretch of trees she found herself breathless. Knocked down to her knees. And ungodly presence putting pressure on her chest and sending her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

….She had stumbled upon her first graveyard.

[Codeh]

Father Knisle's yawned as he walked out onto the over hang of his balcony. A sleepy gaze moved haphazardly along the grass outside as his left brow shifted up. Pupils dilated for a second and as his surreal mind set was destroyed by a sudden splash of sobriety. Eyes fully opened and jaw dropped, some yards away he could just make out the image of a shadowy figure scaling one of the fences. As the shock wore off he immediately began to inhale, ready to announce his protest to the child's escape. As the words readied to explode from his lips his attention was abruptly drawn away. He felt something land on his shoulder, press into the skin, and then roll off onto the ground. Eyes shifted down and to the left, leading him to a small pebble. His head canted as he took a step forward and turned around, immediately his eyes widening to a degree which would surely suggest possession. For above his door, on the overhang stood some beast cloaked in black and white, its face yellow, its eyes dark, its snout and ears reminding him vaguely of a fox.

The entities body shifted, its movements blurred together, Father Knisle's eyes tried so hard to track the movements. The entities body seemed to become translucent and almost completely vanish. Its form swerved from the overhang, darted down the side of the wall, and stopped inches in front of him, kneeling upon a single knee. Even though shock held him mute, Father Knisle managed to avert his gaze down upon the beast.
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Cloaked in black and white Senko darted along the ground as he moved closer and closer to the facility before him. Quick light steps carrying him through the woods. An exaggerated bends of his knees would be met by a sudden and forceful straightening as he rocketed into the air and over fence. As he came closer to the building his sharp ears twitched with the sound of an older woman yelling. He couldn't make out exactly what she was saying, but he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with his infiltration.

As he approached the wall his left leg would raise adhere to the vertical surface, and continue to carry the weight of the man up the wall. A few stories later his senses tingled once more, alerting him to movement below him. Immediately his right hand snaked out as he grasped onto an overhang and pulled himself from the wall to the horizontal surface. The shadows cast by the building reaching out and wrapping around him, concealing him within their aphotic embrace.

Moments later a child bolted from her window and ran off, scaling an all too familiar fence. She didn't seem to notice him, but then again how could she see what wasn't there? A deep breathe was taken, his nerves calmed. A shiver ran through his spine, the whole situation was sadly too 'normal'. His right hand grasped the edge of the overhang as he prepared to swing himself into the room below, when a man walked out. The shinobi's face contorted with surprise and splendor. Though this expressions were well hidden behind the yellow kitsune mask. That's him, that's my mark. Sweet. His weight shifted a little, which dislodged a pebble that had embedded itself within the treed of his boots.

The small stone rolled down the overhang and off the edge plopping onto the man's shoulder before tumbling down to the ground below. Sonuva bitch. The man's gaze gradually worked its way up to him. With as much haste as he could muster Senko darted from his perch and weaved his way down to the ground, stopping inches in front of the target, his right knee coming to the ground. "Peace be with you."

His right hand slid from the sleeve of his coat as he brought a spade shaped knife out of concealment and jutted it up into the man's jaw. The tip pierced father Knisle flesh, worked its way past through his tongue, breached the roof of his mouth, and penetrated into his gray matter. The hand was quickly jerked back forcing the kunai to part skull and flesh as he removed the blade from his victim, leaving his face asunder. The hand was drawn back into his sleeve as a curious gaze was given to the fence. Slowly the assassin stood, his left arm swinging out as he offered a shove to the now dead Father Knisle, sending the man's body toppling over the balcony. A thud echoed out through the night sky as the man landed face down in the grass.

The shinobi's left leg rose onto the balconies rail as he pushed off catapulting himself into the air. His form sailing down onto the fence which he quickly stepped off of as he walked into the woods. Though knowing full well that he was close enough to the facility to still be in danger, stealth had been discarded. Foot steps landed on twigs and leaves alike sending crackles and snaps floating about the woodland area. He was searching, searching for something, no someone. Not that it was any of his business, but why had the child fled the facility?

[Raving Frenzy]

Cemetary Gates, locked tight as they were every night. Moon hanging in the sky, angled compared to the stars set in their ways speckling the Celestial heights. Wind rustled the leaves and only one sound eminated from the graveyard itself. Shoveling.

A large man hurled dirt into a grave, finally complete for the long rest and journey into the night. He'd actually be pretty pissed if he knew another corpse had just been made for him. Couldn't they just do it all at once? The redhead had long hair tied back some, shirtless as he sweat despite the coolness of the evening-crisp. He was a hand of the crypt-keeper here, as Cathmor had so many jobs he did when he could. Well built, he made easy work of the land under a half moon. Shovel went to his shoulder, with a sigh of relief as he kicked the last of the dirt in and went about his ritual. Pounding the fresh earth down with his boots, flat and smoothed by shovel.

The only things he had was a necklace of a tribal sort, dirty brown pants, and thick boots matched only by bracers made of leather. Multiple scars and tattoos wound his torso, ending with a special styled barbed tribal-celtic collar ink work. Excellent senses picking up on both people, wading through the woods and into his little shred of employment. They seemed human.. a good sign. His gear was near the entrance, not such a good sign but he waded around in wait. Acting normal, but observant.

With a grunt and a growl, the inhuman man used his long, lean body to spike and throw the dirt aside, piling it up and making quick work to dig the grave for tomorrow's service. Enhanced, he was difficult to notice through all of the beard and red hair his fangs, or see his taloned fingertips in the pale glow of the silver bulb in the sky. This wolfman was peaceful enough, making an honest living, despite how he drank openly on this job by tipping the flask back periodically. Why oh why, where they here of all land?

[animosity!]

Rusia, within moments, was back on her feet. Eyes refocused. Her heart rate steadily retuning to normal. She stood on weak legs that fought dreadfully to support even the pressure of her tiny body weighing down against them. She blinked, stepped forward, and held out her arms to in a swift movement to steady herself. What she saw before her nearly sent her to the ground once more. As her small arm moved to help balnce her frame the air hitting against it was like that of a glow stick in the darkmoving to and fro so quickly that streaks of light lingered far beyond their anticipated time. The wind against her skin was heavy. Nearly tangible. She moved her arms as if she were composing an orchestra of wind. Pushing it out, sending it shooting through the air with bursts of energy. She feltdifferent. Sharpened. As she took her eyes from the wind she's scanned the horizon as if never before. Eyes catching the smallest movements, gazing much past their normal perimeters. It was as if she had taken a new power to her senses. Little did she know, however, that what she was merely doing was seeing the death in life for the first time.


As she played with her new abilities, her eyes perked and her head snapped to face the Abbey. In her line of sight was the open balcony windows of Father Knisle's quarters. Emanated from it was the brightest light.Not the normal lighting of the Cathedrals interior. No. This light was ominous, piercing light that stung Rusia puils and burned into her sould the more she gazed. The faint thus of a body hitting the floor after the gut wreching noises of metal breaking skin was heard. Within seconds the light flooded through the courtyards and pass the fence into Rusia's standing area. Asharp pain to her side caused her to double over in agony, falling to the moist grass into the fetal position as hands cupped her hip. The light was blinding, forcing Rusia's eyes to stay tightly squeezed shut. A cold presence passed over her and sent chills through her spine enough to make her incapable of taking in a breath. The sharp pain in her side was replaced with an intense burning. Shrieks would escape Rusia's lips. Dry, agonizing screams of horror.



A red, dim light showed through the cloth of her blouse, and incinerated a large circluar hole into it as if someone had caught fire to her. An eternity passed. A million years to the teen before the burning finally subsided and Rusia's shrieks turned into mere whimpers. Tears flooded her eyes as she looked down to see the culprit of the new hole burned into her clothing. She binked to clear her vision and upon staring at her hip, let out one last high-pitched howl of terror. Ine the hole, engraved into her skin was a glowy, fading symbol. It consisted of two "j" shaped cuts, two large circles in the form of a grammatical colon and a few unintelligable markings. Rusia's shaking hand reached down to touch the new wounds and as her fingertips brushed the red markings, a last surge of pain ripped through her like the angry tide against a pebble. It was enough to cause the poor young girl to faint on the spot, her body lip and shaking.

And so the transformation would begin...

[Codeh]

The shinobi's stride had casually taken him to the graveyard, there he stumbled upon two entities. A man who was much larger than himself, and the child who had escaped from the building he had just been at. The man appeared harmless enough, he wielded the shovel with a level of skill expected to be found within a graveyard. The girl on the other hand, she was more of a concern. Not because she seemed threatening, but because she was shrieking and howling like a banshee and glowing. Glowing was rarely a good thing. The smell of burnt cloth tickled his nose, the females screeches pierced his ears, and a strange uneasiness ran down his spine.

Silver optics firmly hidden behind the yellow mask darted over the would be ditch digger. Was this individual responsible? It didn't seem likely, even so if he was the shinobi acknowledge that it was not his place to get involved. He lacked information, understanding, clarity, and these were things need to make such decisions. Hands remained hidden within oversized sleeves, a kunai still drawn, blood dripping from its tip. It was in those moments as Senko analyzed the male that the manic female suddenly fainted. There was no rush forward, no sudden urge to help. Only the motion of his head canting to looking at her fallen form. He remained still unwavering, waiting to see what the other did.

[Raving Frenzy]

The other, in truth, may have been the worst threat of all. A wolf, in sheep's clothing, the man approached the girl after the entire array had settled though it was noticable he held his ears when the wailing began. Surprised, definately, that one was not seen coming. He said nothing, either.

What could he say? He smelt the blood on the ninja's kunai, he smelt the spiritual-scolding of the girl's perdition, and he smelt the fresh corpse yards away. None of it settled well with the grave-digger, who left the shovel behind. Sighing. Cathmor had no medical training, aside from pull this out and block the blood flow like this. Gently he nudged this girl, sniffed her, eyed her with his lone optic. A steel-blue eye, the left side had been mauled out along with the rest of his facial scarring. Extremely fit physically, he was no mere laborer for sure. Slapping the girl softly, he talked to her some finally to snap her out of it.

He knew, better than to say damn near anything around an assassin. He didn't wish to tell him to get out, either, if he meant no harm. Part of him was eager to fight, but the humanity was helping this girl as he examined as best he could. "Ey, 'ey wake up lass. Dunnae know its not a good place t' faint? Revenants an' ghastly things'll nosh on ye they will. C'mon now."

Fuck, now he'd have to carry her and her bag? He hoped she woke up, and hoped this hashashin had no quarrel. He didn't feel like shifting tonight. Letting the blood boil over in rage and his darkest urges run rampant with ravenous instinct.

[animosity!]

Rusia groaned as she half heartedly attempted to being herself from the state of unconsciousness. The prodding and blur of words faded in and out to her as if she were tuning an ancient radiostatic was all she could hear, distorted figures were all she could see through half opened eyes. She had forgotten why she was laying on the cold ground, and where she was. The difficulty she faced to control herself and bring herself to was overwhelming and she cried out softly. Inaudibly.

The scent of her burnt clothing suddenly sent her brain in to overdrive, as she fast forwarded the memory of the recent events. Her small hand slid down her side and to the now black markings that strangely embedded into her skin permanently. With the touch her body wrenched up by unknown force and caused her back to arch and her mouth to open in a silent scream. Her eyes snapped open and widened at the dight of the two gentleman. Instantly, she stood, a defensive stance taken, and eyed the two men fiercely.

Fear had brought on a new ability to Rusia. No long was she afraid of the graveyard and all it's dwellings, but in tune with it. The smell of rotting bodies, the ominous air that lingered with unrested souls, the presence of both dark and light spirits that surrounded her made her feel, for once, accepted and right with the world. This is where she would be strongest from now on, even if she had no clue of it yet

" Dare you speak to me, the both of you? Let it be known that I" She lingered on the possibility that they were high council members of the church. She felt a presence in the air, Father Knisle's. It was strange to herand made it quite impossible for her to not be suspicious of the two men.

"That I will not be returning to that god forsaken hell hole. " She nodded with the certainty of any young lady set in her ways. Perhaps with her transformation, she had reached an adult mentality. Probably not, though.

[Codeh]

Senko took a few steps, a few painfully slow steps, as he circled the male who opted to kneel next to the female. It wasn't so much that he was attempting to gain a vantage point, but rather he was curious and trying to get a better view. His right hand shifted moving up his sleeve as he pulled it from the coat arm. The hand sliding down to his waist as he buried the spaded blade into a pouch. His hand remained concealed along his waist for a few moments before it weaved itself out from within the coats front, snaked its way up to his face and grasped the nose of the mask.

Digits wrapped around the yellow face, pulling carefully on it. It seemed to form an almost airtight seal around his face, the give away being the low hiss that escaped from the edges as the adhesive gaskets seal broke. His head tilted down as the still night air caressed his visage, the pale skin glistened with a few beads of sweat. The arm withdrew back into the coat bringing the mask with it and securing it to the interior of his garb. Within those moments his left hand swept back removing the hood from his head.

Senko's head tilted up, then canted to the right, the metallic silver of his eyes pierced through the night. Irises reflected the gaze of the stars and moon upon the others, and for a brief moment he appeared to be peering through them, at something bigger, something greater, something far more important, and fundamental. Irides faded as pupils expanded, the action being a reaction to the woman's sudden state of consciousness. Visage shifted to follow the woman's movements as she bolted up. Sudden protest escaping her maw.

The shinobi took a moment to assess the situation, and within those moments of assessment the answers he sought became absolutely clear to him. He had no fucking idea what the hell was going on. He new nothing of high councils, or this strange C. H. U. R. C. H. organization she was part of. All he knew is that he had a mark, he had dealt with that mark, and now he was gradually getting himself caught up in something he probably didn't want to be part of. A step back was taken as he looked the females defensive stance over. "Alright?" The response slid from his lips like a whisper, it floated in the air and barely kissed the ears.

Senko was probably the exact opposite of Cathmor. Cathmor was large and imposing, Senko not so much. Senko had a gentle, quiet voice and nature. Cathmor was loud, demanding sounding, his tone almost harsh. Scotsmen & Jack a little?

[animosity!]

Rusia's sight was brought to the smaller man, her brows furrowing together in an attempt to decihper what he was thinking. What he was even. She watched carefully, still even very defensively as he removed his disguise and her ears perked as he spoke. She practically had to lean her head in, invading personal space just to make out what he said. Once she caught the end of the word, then slight raise in his vocals to denot that it was more question than statement, she leaned back and folded her arms tightly over her chest. Head cocked to the side with a look of disbelief towards the man's psuedo innocence she spoke at him.

" Alright? That's it then? Oh. No explanation as to why you're lingering around me. In dead night. In a graveyard of an Abbey then?"

She swept strawberry brown bangs to the side of her face with a swift motion of her fingertips revealing a raised eyebrow. As if she had any right to question the two men. She was a fleeing soon-to-be nun. However in the wrong Rusia had been, if there was one thing that stuck with her through her forced schooling, it was the ability of her christian peers, and herself, to emanate self-righteousness, no matter how sinful the past. She took a few quiet steps the large hiking boots of hers hitting the dry ground with echoing thuds in the still night. Both eyes remained on the two gentleman. Rusia clearly wasn't going to attempt to attack either. They both, easily would break her in half within mere seconds. Still she contemplated the reasoning behind the smaller man's presence in the Abbey's territory. If her had no clue of the C.H.U.R.C.H association, and obviously was not at all concerned or aware of Rusia's escape, why had he been here?


Slowly, painfully like the feeling of razor to skin, it dawned on Rusia. Of course not by her own will. A burning was felt within her new wounds, tolerable enough to keep her on her feet, but distracting. So distracting that she lost focus of the two men and her eyesight was forced into the forest beyond them where illuminated in the night by a dark pale marron aura was the bodily shape of Father Knisle. He beckoned to Rusia with a stern glare. Momentarily it was as if she was back in the cathedreal halls, with Father bellowing at her, ordering her into the office. A sick rush of pain and agony passed over the girls body and in a sting of pain to her jaw, a tiny hand flew up to feel if she had just been stabbed. Horror stickened features played over the child's face as fingers ran along her skin and felt no punctures. What was going on? She, as quickly as she had mentally left, came back down to earth and shot a piercing look to the smaller man. It was a look of knowing. Of complete understanding of his purpose for being on the grounds.

Rusia said nothing. Only stared in disbelief that someone would have reason to murder the head of the Cathedreal. Suddenly a feeling of happiness ran through her, just a slightest spark of relief, and soon passed. She became lethargic about the situation in its entirity. Only concerned with the assassin's motives.

[Codeh]

A few strands of moisture hung between his lips, the tip of his tongue sliding out just enough to sweep along the edges of his maw and remove the strands. Words began to flutter from his mouth, he remained soft spoken, even if the girls demanding presence. "Dare I ask why a child such as yourself is adventuring about a graveyard in the middle of a night with a man," his gaze shifted over to Cathmor "significantly your senior. Shouldn't you be asleep, with your teddy bear or something?" There was an absolute lack of passion or hostility in his voice, not to say that he was empty, but rather reserved.

The woman seemed to loose focus for a moment, looking past him possibly in a manner at which he had looked past her not too long ago. Seconds later her attention returned, his eyes locked with hers, and it became clear that she had gained some type of understanding. Her eyes said a lot, they gave away far too much. She knew, but how? Optics shifted down to the strange marks on his body, runes, seals, something magical no doubt? Could she see into the past?

"Well, this is unfortunate. I regret taking my mask off. Your eyes say a lot, and the threat of your mouth saying more is too great." Both of Senko's hands vanished into his sleeves leaving the coat arms hanging limply at his side. His head canted a little as he frowned. His gaze shifted to the corner of his eyes as he observed the larger man for a moment. He'd probably have to deal with both of them, this complicated things. His knees bent a little as his center of gravity was lowered, his stance gradually widening. "It's a shame, but I feel like death follows me."

[Raving Frenzy]

"Eih?" Was all the bearing figure of the Irishman said at first. He didn't, seem, to be a Christian by any standard as he was painted in Pagan symbology and had the fetters of a true tribal from the way his beard was beaded and braided to the necklace he had never removed. A necklace focused on claws, and fangs, and a large whet stone carved over decades into the shape of a tornado's twister bound to the green-dyed hemp rope it hung from. Some of the wooden beads, the fangs, and a couple of claws also dyed colors. Greens, red-browns, oranges and black. Pearly white ivory, and as he was circled Senko may get his first clue.

A pair of claws sat at the back, on his shoulders were silver-claws and had grooved into his skin over years of time. Almost like they were hot, and scolded him every day under the noon sun. The only ones past them, were a pair of yellow-talons looking to be that of a raven, the size of a bear claw. Between them was the beak of such an animal in normal size. Filling the beak were arrow heads, mostly silver ones but some semi-precious stone and cold iron.

"Lass, yer talkin' t' the grave-watcher. I'm workin here. M' surrogate father, Father Shaun Taggart, is some fancy placement o' the cemetary 'ere an' I ain't gonna force ya to be nowheres ya don't wantae be. If ya lemme finish diggin this here" He sighed, nodding to the fallen Father, "Might as well dig two, I'll guide ye outta here. I'm not exactly Faith material 'ere." He said as she was up and he began to dig as he spoke, throwing up shovel fulls of dirt with barely a grunt. His corded musculature working harder than any man's. As a behemoth, Glabro form, he was, the feral features of his face were greater defined. How a werewolf stayed under the shadow of the C.H.U.R.C.H. was anyone's guess but the most obvious would be he kept the necromancers, vampires, and demons away in the thick of night as these humans slept.

Idly his one eye glanced to Sento, glad he had put his little weapon away. Killer as he may be, there was no bad blood between them and he was just doing his job. Optionally, now willing to help the girl run away. He kept digging, and spoke. "Yer sigil burnt into yer chest there looks painful. I got some herbs if ye need them in m'pack yonder. If now I just suggest a scarf, I dun recognize them runes but I doubt somebody who will would want'ya havin 'em. And folks who dun understand the Runes'll probbly just try to destroy 'em anyway. Shame it is, you there.. Night-stalker. Ya seen anything odd in the woods on the way here?"

His unspoken fear, why he stayed in a place like this. Others of his kind, more inclined to shed blood in the same of all things infernal and abysmally forsaken.

[animosity!]

Rusia inhaled deeply. Her chest expanded, and as she exhaled, a rush a fear sent shivers down her spine. The seventeen year old very carefully backed away a few feet. She tried to be inconspicuous. Oh how she tried, but the thought of her so young, looking death in the eyes was unbearable and showed as if it was written across her face. Could she plead? Run away? No. The man surely would think she would spill the beans to the first adult in sight. The only thing she could do was choose words carefully, and hope that the man would leave her in peace. Rusia had no fighting skills, only a dagger in her bag now yards away. She had barely recooperated from the transformation that had so recently taken hold over her. She looked to the assassin with pleading eyes, and if her looks carefully, he could see tears welling on the brim of her lids.

" I--I Need to be going. I have a-- I cant be this close to school grounds." She hesitated, hoping her next few words would throw the man off. She looked to the graveyard attendant as well. Seeking his help with the expression on her face. " Fa--Father Knisle will find soon enough that I've left my chambers. And Sister Miriam as well. I can't go back, I can't be caught. Please."

Her last word faded into a whisper as she switched her gaze back and forth between the two men. What would these strangers decide her fate to be. So short after fleeing one prison, she found herself in another. A purgatory of sorts, amongst the living. Panic was slowling creeping in on the young girl. She attempted to lift a foot from the ground, just shift her body to one side or another and the soft leather the boots were made of became lead. Her heart rate increased rapidly. The fear in Rusia's body emanated from her almost like steam from a hot body of water. She was frozen in the terror of what could come to be, and despite her witty nature, she could come up with no clever way to put off the assassin's worry regarding the possibility of her revealing what he had done. She, of course, wouldn't. But how could he know that? He was not aware of the mark now on her head for what she had become And he certainly did not understand that Rusia's own life was far more precious than that of a corrupt church official's.

She lingered in thought as her gaze darted between the two men, and shifted to the ground. The assassin had defeated her with just his words and slight actions. She grew eerily silent and awaited the oncoming doom. Eyes squeezed shut, and she was once more a child. Trapped, scared and without solace.

[Raving Frenzy]

His tone had not been hostile, but his actions became other wise. Like a grinding, heavy tune that began to strike with drums and a guttural spew of lyrics too primal for any human to understand, it hit him. Killing intent, and it set off a savage instinct legendary of putting entire kingdoms on edge, and whole races into unabridged fear. Cathmor, stomped one foot to raise out of the two-foot ditch he had already dug, and took one long gait-filled step to the backside of this assassin. The sound of a jaw popping and cracking before the neck did the same, all Cathmor did was work his mouth and neck.

The noise of muscle, ripping, and bone crunching very, very slowly filled the night air. Heart-rate spiking to near fatal levels, if only one was a common-mortal. Heavy, hot breath. Too hot, blood on fire and steam releasing from lungs in ways only steam engines did in dreams. The figure, was still fast. So fast, now circling this man as his tone let off a vibration of unnatural intimidation. "No." One word, much weight.

His shovel was not held with much skill, but the way he lifted and closed his fingers as each digit tore. Blood spilled, and sealed as feral claws raked across the wood, putting in notches. He was still, 'just' short of eight feet tall and his weight by build was twice most warriors of the day. Every second passing, another muscle tore, and rebuilt itself twice over. Bulging with supernatural blood, then slimming into a killer's lean build. Weight doubling, as bones cracked and broke, increasing him inch by inch slowly.

Maw, what it truly was, showing more wolven features as he snarled some and inhaled the air sharply. "Ya ain't killin' nobody on this Hallowed ground, ape. Ya can get away wit' killin the Father over there. That ain't my problem. I smell his feckin' blood on ya. And I smell ya. I'll make yer fuckin' guts int' Garland t' string yer bones as wind chimes. Then I'll follow yer scent. T' the ends o' Gaia's reach. Yer not faster than me."

His bold words held a crushing grip of reality, as his shin bone suddenly snapped in half and inverted, adding to the musculature and structure of his ankle to become 'quadrapedal' as he still stood on intensely powerful looking legs ripped with corded muscle bands. The pain didn't appear to phase him, as one steel blue eye stared into him with sudden predation. "This is my land. And I dare ask ye watch yer tongue, when yer BOTH trespassing. But unlike her." He nodded his head to the frightened girl, half of the cocktail it took to send his hackles rising as his hair continued to 'spread' and grow thicker. "Who's from there." He pointed with him thumb to the Abbey who technically owned the land, and not him. "Yer foreign. I'm being"

He paused to recall the word from memory, and halt his shifting for the moment being to re-affirm his 'generosity'. "Excessively fuckin' kind. She's a'runnin away. What'ever blood-coin yer making for ganking my father's elder fer, ain't worth this, is it?" Cathmor then, pointed with his shovel to the shallow, unmarked grave he had started. "Trust me, stranger, a pack of me own kind can't take me down. I'll put ya down, crow-meal an all."

The more he spoke, the more gritty his tone became. The more a howl was begging to tear up from his lungs, and rage across the Heavens in the name of Luna. It was against his morality to eat human flesh. One of his kind, who hadn't been raised by a Priest, would likely have made the worst of the situation a horrid reality and then some.

[Codeh]

Senko's visage contorted and twisted, but not out of fear. Slowly a sly and cocky smile slid across his lips, his mind rolling over the 'puppies' words. Not faster huh, I could promise otherwise. Yet something far less challenging worked itself way from him. "You have a problem with me killing her here, on hollowed ground. Yet you threaten to scatter my entrails across this same land. A bit hypocritical, no?"

He'd already decided that he'd have to kill both of them, the question had been who first. Now it seemed that he'd have to deal with Cathmor, this triggered an internal sigh. Cathmor wouldn't be something he could just stab once or twice to kill, which would give the girl time to run. Not that she could run probably run all that fast, nor did she appear to be all that stealthy, but he strongly disliked chasing people down. But then again, attempting to go after the girl and not giving the man his full attention could very well result in loss of life or limb.

There was probably some part of him that knew it would be best to strike out and destroy his opponent well before he finished his transformation. The long Senko waited the strong his opponent would get, and the slimmer his chances became at being able to swiftly deal with lycan. But the beast was honorable, it was being fair, even reasonable to a degree. The shinobi could respect that, he even enjoyed seeing those qualities in others, even if he didn't necessarily carry them himself. The shadows that concealed his figure beneath his coat began to rise up wrapping around his arms and legs. The afflicted limbs gradually becoming hazy, translucent, and appearing to be something less then solid. This visual change spread, consumed his torso, and keep rising and engulfing him until the spread stop just before his neck. The night air just wasn't dark enough to consume him completely, but that was alright, it was all he needed for now.

"Let me pose this question to you then, If you had killed a man in secrecy, and two people now make it apparent that they now. And both have seen your face. What would you do to make sure that they never spoke of any of this? Especially knowing that they will most likely be faced with torture?"

Many civilized countries shunned torture, most religious institutions still used it. Why not extract a confession from a witch, vampire, or what have you with hours, days, weeks, and well most of them didn't last for months, of pain. The metallic hues of his irises began to swirl, interweave with the whites and blacks of his eyes. Speckles of light hurled themselves from his visage, and his gaze began to search. Slowly his eyes would advance along Cathmor's form as he brought his enigmatic gaze to the wolfman's.

[animosity!]

Bead of nervous sweat formed along the teen's forehead. She madly stared at the two contenders, awaiting their collision of battle. She couldn't breath, could barely move. As the two men faced off, she moved slowly to her bag. Beneath the folds of clothing and materials was a small dagger. She grabbed the bag and dragged it behind her to the original spot at which she stood, far from the men and rage emanating from the both of them. She waited. Mentally debating her options of escape. She owed the two nothing, so to stay as they fought for more than just her sake would be pointless.

Her necromantic vision scanned the area, searching for paths, caves-- anything she could easily hide herself within. It was nearly impossible to see in the dark of the night but she squinted hard, and focused even harder to find her destination of escape. Finally her eyes caught the shape of a large cliff behind an installment of trees. At the bottom, a crevice just large enough for her petite body to squeeze through was visible. She eyed it cautiously, all the while peeking over to the men to make sure they hadn't become knowledgeable of her hiding spot.

Her heart beat like wild tribal drums and her skin crawled with the fear and excitement of what was soon to be. She hoped the men would focus on themselves, and not her. That they would become too lost in their own quarrel to not notice the young refugee and prevent her from leaving. She had to free herself. If this was the world only outside of the Abbey, still on the grounds The young girl dreaded the more expanded realm outside the graveyard's gates.


[Sorry it took so long! Busy day today.]