Fast Hands/More Than Meets The Eye

Busy was glad the commander didn't seem to be in very low spirits at the time. It seemed that the absence of captured or rather, dead fugitives would suggest that they had escaped her, and her later comment of fugitives on the loose confirmed it, yet something about the boy's presence seemed to just brighten her mood.

He made sure to listen attentively as the commander spoke, a childlike smile finding it's way onto his face when the she commented on his height. Then, she magically pinned a map to a nearby tree, pointing out thier current position and telling Busy where she needed him. Once Busy thought the commander would dismiss him, she made a rather strange request.

"Do your hands move as quickly and accurately as your feet?"

His brows furrowed slightly in puzzlement as he thought for what reason the commander would ask him such a question, to the point that he looked at his own hands, pondering their capabilities.

"Um, if I concentrate, I believe so. you ask, C'mander?"


Outrider stood, the air rapidly leaving and entering his mouth produced sounds somewhere between a bestial growl and a series of exhausted breaths. His hands were hot, he could practically fell the blood rushing through the veins within them. In front of him lay two dead wolves, the kinds that could easily tear a man apart. They were horridly mangled, sticks and long pieces of wood cutting in and out of the flesh like some brutal and bloody pin cushion. The way the wood bended in other to pierce the wolves, it was far from natural, almost as if the very roots and fallen branches of the trees had come to life for the sole purpose of implaing the wolves. But they deserved it, thought Outrider. They had tried to kill him. He defended himself. But then, the twinge of enjoyment he felt from thier deaths, now replaced by only adrenaline and anger, still managed to unsettle him. It wasn't the first time he had taken a life or two, nor the first time he felt a smile on his face as his victims suffered. Though the smile never felt like his, as if someone had pasted the expression on his face, pour the felling of satisfaction into his soul.

Outrider looked up, not sure how long he had been staring at his handiwork. He needed to move, if someone caught him before such a mess, he would not enjoy explaining it.

He had wondered into the woods of Dalen, well, the outskirts of Dalen anyway. The constant presence of unearthly danger solidified that fact.

The face of that half-elf crossed his mind, it wasn't hard to tell that he was either one of or associated with the authorities, and that wasn't good for Outrider's health. He felt a part of him wanted the chase, but at this point he wasn't sure what exactly the rest of him wanted, it seemed everything that crossed his mind was associated with carnage.

Outrider's body stopped before he had realized why. Ahead of him he could see light, like a campfire. The chances of coming across someone camping in the woods seemed low, especially in woods like these, but it was definitely possible. He made sure to move cautiously, though towards the light, his caution appeared to have a limit.

He found a decent group of trees, and use them as cover as he observed the scene before him, immediately he noticed two people, a woman and a man, along with what he presumed were thier horses. His eyes then rested on a nearby tent, which likely belonged to the two. He looked back to them, straining his eyes to study their features from a distance. The man, tall, well built like a soldier, the dashing sort, likely the man most women dreamed about. And the woman, young and rather stunning, with eyes that seemed to force his own to look into them. They reminded him of his own, unnatural in a way that made others uncomfortable, but with such a face, they fit perfectly. He instantly thought of a lure of some sort, to draw unsuspecting victims in. The woman reminded him of a siren, beautiful at first, until you get close enough. Then they show thier ugly side.

The clothing she wore made her seem like the perfect damsel in distress, like some maiden who had somehow wondered into the woods. It was at this point that Outrider decided that there was more to this woman than meets the eye, and her own were proof. With every second his curiosity rose, and he decided he would sit here, out of sight, and watch to see if his theory was perhaps correct. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, and with the violent acts he had just committed mere hours ago, the urge he so commonly felt had subsided, for now anyway.

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