CHPT 260: Watch from the Sky, Decide from the Mind...

Saturday Evening, Nov 24th, 2240

Weekends were never really pleasant for Claude. Not since Dolion grabbed hold of his arm on one fateful night and bit him with the intentions of changing him into a Lupine of Remus. That was a long time ago-- or at least it felt that way.

But, weekends never changed. This one was no exception.

He didn't sleep. Not since he was faced with the ultimatum delivered by the wandering blind-man. A chance at increasing Ursula's rate of survival.....and an equal chance at plunging them even deeper into the realm of danger or plunging himself further into a place away from being a Hero.

The thoughts and possibilities ate away at his mind like Vultures on a carcass as he left their previous den to find somewhere further away from the mysterious walker of the wild. That "somewhere" came in the form of a hollowed out tree base wide enough to house Ursula and the Phantom Wolves.

Afterwards, he was left to sit in his own mind. A terrifying place to be in times of intensity when there's little else to do.

So, he kept himself busy.

He led his pack on hunts in record speeds. He did pull-ups until his lats and biceps felt like they'd explode. He shoulder-pressed and squatted dead logs for rep ranges far beyond the norm. And when that became boring, he shadow-boxed, conjuring spears and using his Malevolence Tether to try out new and execute old comfortable combinations. Combinations he'd be ready to use if a band of hunters suddenly came instead of a man with salves.

In the time spent waiting until night fell, he continued in this way. Working, thinking, scowling, searching and preparing. He'd even littered the forest near the meet-up location with a number of wooden spears just in case he needed to pick off a few attackers from distance. Not exactly his style-- but thats what he liked about spears. You could slice someones throat open just as easily as you could pin them to a tree from thirty feet away.

In time, the bright orange symbol of day-time ceased to warm his midnight black fur. His training regimen was thoroughly exhausted. His Stamina raised another two points. And the forest cooled as the sun set below the trees and continued to steadily descend.

It was time to face the music. No matter what tune he was met with, he decided he'd face it, with caution and protective ferocity.

***

The sun had set completely, cowering out of existence in the growing presence of the Moon. It looked fuller than ever, illuminating the magical feeling forest like a giant supernatural lamp.

Once again, the forest was alive. And that feeling of true nature tugged at the back of his mind as if a rope was tied around his brain, trying to lead him somewhere he couldn't find with his eyes.

He swatted the feeling from his thoughts like a cloud of annoying gnats before preparing to head out and meet the man for the third time.

"[Are you sure about this?]" Arne asked while he ran through his supplies-- which he had little of, and readied his Wolves.

"....I'll drive myself insane if I don't see what the man has and Ursula ends up worse off because of that. I've got to at least try." Claude replied before crouching in front of the hollowed out tree with hands that glowed bright under the dark of night.

"....Alright guys. I'm gonna go by the lake for a bit. I'll either come back with something good.....or blood on my hands. Or...worse. See you soon." He said before letting his elemental magic seep into the ground at the base of the tree.

FWSHH!

Suddenly, the grass and roots in front of him exploded with growth and life, reaching up to cover the hole of the tree and intermingle with its bark as if it were always there.

With that out of the way, all that was left, was to leave.

Claude, Frosty, Ashe and Gil moved through the forest in a flash. Leaping and bounding over obstacles and exploding through bushes with the scent of clean water held strongly within their noses.

The forest held little activity during their run. No Deer fleeing from his peripheral vision as they approached. No rabbits or other rodents to flee into the undergrowth around him. No real presence of wildlife other than the flock of Griffons that flew overhead like ravens in pursuit of a pack of Wolves.

He wondered if it was the same flock that assisted him when he first arrived in the desert. If it was, he was thankful that they'd come to be his eyes and ears once again.

On this night, they'd either be confirming peace. Or heralding violence.

***

A few minutes later and he was where he needed to be. Dozens of feet above ground, hidden within the thick branches and leaves of a tree while the pack circled below, lying in wait.

Terrifying winged birds with eyes like the Undead perched nearby. Their talons cut deep into the bark like black knives while the wind ruffled each of their deep black feathers.

True night had fallen. Not an ounce of sunlight remained, and the predators and Monsters of the dark roamed. Their meeting was about to be underway.

Claude looked to his left. A large Griffon watched him through it's dark blue ringed yellow eye, eyes like saucers. Eyes like the moon. He needed to see through them.

The Griffon understood and took flight with a single spread of it's massive shadowy wings. It rode the cold night winds like a Knight on his trusty steed.

It dodged and twisted through the forest as it ascended until it almost disappeared completely from Claude's sight. Right before it could though; his vision went black.

For a matter of milliseconds it stayed that way. And then, in an explosion of visionary and sensory difference, he was flying. He was looking down at the vibrant forest through eyes that picked up everything through magnifying detail.

The winds pushed and pressed on the Vulture, causing their shared vision to shake and sway in a fluid manner like a ship at sea during a storm.

For a moment it stayed that way, just him seeing through the eyes of a bird mid-flight. Riding the currents, feeling the rich night air...almost enough to be relaxing.

It would've been if not for the sight of the lake that stretched out from the forest like an over-sized glowing puddle.

Under the pale blue light of the moon, the lake reflected its rays in an ethereal lake-side lightshow as the winds ruffled the once still waters and caused them to wash over the land like a washing tide.

Little activity-- if any.

No band of Hunters with magical weapons of traps lying in wait. No Detectives and no Monsters.

The Vulture dive-bombed suddenly, cutting through the railroad of currents it rode and re-entering the green bulk of forest.

It continued to bullet towards the ground without an ounce of fear as the ground rose to meet them. Before entering true danger, the creature spread it's wings once again, batting at the wind to carry it to a nearby branch that looked over the lake in the distance.

Close enough to see, far enough to stay unseen.

For a long while they sat in silence, patiently waiting for the man. At any time, he expected to hear footsteps, or bushes crunching under the weight of man....or even the sound of someone breathing.

Instead, he got the familiar sound of an unstable cough. And there the man was. Never a sound made until he'd swallowed too much of the foul smelling fluid in his bottle and had to cough to clear his throat.

He seemed to do that often. Just appear out of nowhere on accident as if he wasn't meaning to.

As always, he wore medium to light clothing. The night was cold, so a loose dark green sweater littered with holes hung loosely over his thin frame. The same black bag hung over his shoulder like a lead weight. In one hand he held a brown glass bottle-- half full and cracked. In the other hand, the comically dulled great-sword sunk into the ground at his feet. He was alone.

Once the coughing fit was over, he walked, following the outer ring of the lake effortlessly missing the chaotic tide of the lake. Even with the many obstacles littering the ground, he didn't make a single mistake. Something made more impressive when Claude realized, he wasn't feeling out for his surroundings with the sword. He was moving as if he could see.

With every athletically disadvantaged step he made, he came closer to them, making his features visible under the Moon.

He looked the same as before. No older than his forties and darker skinned than anyone Claude had ever seen with a slim and refined nose, full lips and hard lines running through his face as if he was weathered by the elements.

The thick black blindfold that covered his nose and ears to tie at the back of his head hid the features of his eyes and added to his air of mystery. Claude didn't like it. But, the man came alone.

He came to a stop where Claude found him standing the night before and waited patiently. A simple gesture. At least that's what it would've been if he didn't turn around and practically look the Vulture dead in it's eyes.

Claude felt a shiver run up his spine the way squirrels scale trees. The feeling faded as he began moving as if he was smelling instead of looking.

Freaky.

He'd seen enough. Claude deactivated the Skill, (Eyes of the Wild) and left the Griffons to freely roam the skies with their help no longer needed. And then the pack was off to the lake.

***

As he approached, he moved without a sound. There was no reason the man had to hear him coming.

When they finally emerged from the forest, the man turned to greet them with a half smile and a partial bow, causing his bag to fall further to the floor.

Claude took another step forward, towering over the man with Frosty and Ashe at his side. Gil stuck to the shadows behind them, pacing like a caged lion while green flames spilled from his mouth and covered the steaming quills running down his back.

He activated, (Sensory Focus) a final time as a precaution. All he got were the natural sounds of the forest.

"Hm. Im glad you decided to hear me out, Monsieur."

"And I'm glad you came alone."

The man nodded and let out a confident chuckle-- something a man shouldn't be doing in the presence of an endangered Shape-Shifter backed by a Wolf-hybrid, Phantom Wolf and Demon-Hunting Hound.

His words spilled out in his usual deep french accented tone, "...Alone I am..hehe. You seem to have brought your own little feral entourage with you though, eh?"

"Mhm...." Claude answered flatly.

"I must ask Monsieur, who are these beasts that follow you, hm?"

The mans chatty nature was sending a fiery wave of aggravation through his body that mixed with his anxiety like oil and water, "Family. Now do you have the salve or not?"

The man slowly raised his hands, lifting the sword and bottle effortlessly, "Relaxxx, homme bête. I think I have what your human needs, no? Here....here....voir" As he finished speaking he began clumsily fumbling through his bag before pulling out a polished wooden jar.

Claude reached out and grabbed the jar. Aside from what was inside, the jar was crafted beautifully. A thought for another time. His claws strained as he dug them into the wood to pry the cap off and scent the waxy substance inside.

It smelled sweet-- like honey, with a hint of something similar to cooking herbs. Nothing alarming fell on his nostrils.

"A simple salve....but effective. The yarrow grows strong here, just as everything else does. Put this on your humans wounds and keep them moist. I will be able to do more if you accept my offer, monsieur la bête." The man offered.

Claude continued to sniff the bottle for a long time before letting his canine tongue dip into the jar and taste the substance. Normal poisons and venoms didn't harm him the way it harmed humans, so if anything was in here-- he'd be well enough to act accordingly.

But, there was nothing. It was as it smelled. Strongly sweet and tasting of herbs.

"[I think you're in the clear. Might as well hear what he has to say.]"

Claude agreed with Arne's advice, "What is your offer?"

The man suddenly took a slow confident step forward-- again the scent of fear was almost absent and the Moonlight seemed to radiate off him magically.

"First, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is, Rollan Ligneore and I'd like you to protect my home and the area surrounding it. You're a beast of reason, Monsieur. You have a sense of justice, and I need that for what lurks in the deserts beyond this forest."