The scent trail cuts off, the rahu growls lowly in the back of her throat.
Padding forward, Viola sets her snout to work.
2 successes
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The scent trail cuts off, the rahu growls lowly in the back of her throat.
Padding forward, Viola sets her snout to work.
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The image Hector isn't able to conjure - the one Chris views now - would be hazy no matter who looked through it.
Not just because of the shifting, vague imagery his projected senses perceive. Because of a literal, foggy haze. It billows out from the woods ahead of them. What little can be seen of the trees and nature of the woods in the Hisil is grim. Trees have been twisted into black, gnarled skeletons of their physical reflections. Red, glowing eyes cut through the fog as they appear and disappear like fireflies. From the gloom, a face appears. Dark, with furred features and sharp teeth. It stares off at nothing in the distance for a good moment. Then, lowering its head, the face disappears backwards into the fog.
With her senses fixed on the physical realm, Viola finds the same, fear-scented trail Hector had. And, just as it had done to the Alpha, it ends abruptly at their feet. A clear picture forms in Viola's mind of the man's path: he'd come from the direction of the road - presumably holding the photo with him. Then he'd set out towards the woods. Finally, he frantically retraced his path back to the creek with the scent of fear all around him. The trail of his pursuer seems to appear out of nowhere...
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Wolf-Chris falls onto his haunches and then pushes himself up into Man form. One hand braces against the ground, and the other scratches at his beard.
"It's like a damn horror movie on the other side. The trees are all twisted and grotesque." His free hand forms into a claw and twists upwards. "The entire place is covered in fog, there's things in the fog with red eyes. And a damn Thing with teeth. I think it could be where the story of the cat came from." The Irraka shivers on the ground, warm despite his nakedness. "This damn town is all sorts of fucked up." Running away from home to avoid the monsters and now there's monsters here. This isn't how the stories go.
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Presence
Contacts
Striking Looks
SiteOut of car. Shoes off. Here we go.
The silvery-grey form of Urhan-Emily dashes along the edge of the riverbed. She catches the scent of the Pack, running into the undergrowth. Barking an enthusiastic yip she goes barreling through the foliage stopping and pausing to keep the scent. Something else is mingling in with the scent of the Pack. <<Prey? Pack will know.>>
Hearing a voice ahead, Emily slows down quietly. Her ears flick back and forth. <<Human. Herd? ...packmate. Shadow moon.>> If wolves could smile, the Ithaeur would be now.
Pushing through the shrubbery she emerges into the clearing - Chris standing tall, a gangly, ragged-looking Urhan and a hulking, surly Urshul. It was pretty easy to guess who was who. The silver-grey wolf nods respectfully to all of them in turn. <<Pack. Find you. Help Hunt. Hunt what Prey?>>
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<<Scent trail end here>> Viola growls out, <<Prey move to Shadow?>> Viola-wolf asks, without really asking. It sure sounded like it did.
The energetic silvery wolf bounds over. Viola-wolf's massive form regard her while scenting that of the blue haired Crescent moon.
<<Fog. Eyes of blood. Prey is Hunter. Hunts male herd. Found captured moment of female.>> which was basically everything. They had not made much progress. The Urshul's paws dig at the ground where the trail ends.
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Hector's head snaps up as Emily approaches. Once the Ithauer has joined them, he grunts.
<<Spirit prey. Prey come from here. Cross from Shadow. Yes! Must! Moves through forest and chases human prey. Tracks forward from here>>
The lean wolf indicated the trail - the path which the spirit had taken as it moved through the wood.
He turned sharply again as Chris spoke.
<<Wound? Shall we go in?>>
Hector sat on his haunches, his body language contemplative and open. He was open to his pack's thoughts on the matter. After all, the Cahalith was no Blood Talon or Storm Lord who would simply charge across the Gauntlet. He had cause, now. But he wanted to know what his Pack thought of, first.
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Presence
Contacts
Striking Looks
SiteEmily sniffs around, following the directions of her pack-mates. She cocks her head as the scent and tracks vanish. <<Is Wound?>> She stares in the direction intently.
The Ithaeur growls and shakes her head, trying to force her vision across.
So Travis, just checking with how EoD handles the Occult Skill, Wounds are covered by Emily's skill (she has Occult 2). Can she tell if what over the other side is a wound, or just a particularly grim, nasty-looking bit of the Hisil? Or would you like a roll?
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<<We hunt>> Viola-wolf growls out when Hector asks if they'd cross over. <<Prey will die. Wound will heal.>> ears flicking, muscles taut.
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A shudder runs down the Talon. The Destroyer isn't like the Winter, you can show fear and remorse. Like the Iminir though the Suthar Anzuth don't have a thing for losing. Using one hand Chris pushes himself to stand while he shakes his head.
"It may be a wound?" The Irraka goes quiet as he thinks on that. Was it? Or was it just a very creepy nightmare reflection of something?
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