CHPT 298: Unsuspecting, Unknown...

Silence. One of the many weapons instinctively honed into razor sharp deadliness by predators and stalkers of the night.

The forest was full of many.

Within it's vibrant snowcrusted woodlands of greens, reds, whites, browns and blues, Claude stalked silently. Moving with the sway of the wind and change of scents.

Frosty followed, fanning out to the right with Shadow and Cali in their own subdivision-- widening their collective vision and chance of seeing the new brand of tormentors that had entered their forest.

At Claude's left, Ashe led the rest of the Phantom Wolves, all moving in step as a legion of darkness that blended into the night. Moving as unseen as the wind. Gil followed behind, looming over them with his incredibly limber feline limbs. Even with their intense distance shared, Claude could feel the heat of his hound, like an aura of intensity made physical that melted the snow flakes hanging on the bark of the trees around them.

The early December winds cut through the forest like like icy blades, slicing through their fur and scratching Claude's skin. But more than anything, they ruptured the unsteady silence that settled on the forest. Each massive gust shook the trees, crashing branch against bark, leaf against bush and setting the sticks and dug up dead plantlife on the ground in wayward motion. The constant ruffle made movement from both sides go relatively unnoticed.

They could be right next to each other....walking past each other-- merely a few dozen feet apart, split by the sounds of the wind, or the chaos it birthed within the forest. The thought sent his adrenaline on a high speed race to fully flood his body as quickly as possible. It warmed his already heated skin, brought about the beginnings of his transformation and made his jaws itch with the urge to bite.

WOOSH!

Another gust pushed against his back like a physical being, in an instant he slid close to the nearest tree and hung against it as the winds subsided. Whatever was in their forest could have senses akin to his own. He wasn't about to risk giving them a clear scent due to the approaching storm....no pun intended.

Hopefully his natural scents would blend with the dirtied bark of the trees he hid behind. Hopefully they weren't doing the same...

After a few seconds of continued travel, he immediately became aware of one simple fact. They weren't doing the same.

In fact, they didn't even look to be Monsters.

As soon as his eyes fell on them, he stepped further into the domain of silence and hung behind a ghoulish looking Oak Tree. The rest of the pack was one step ahead, hidden behind their own trees and collection of bushes to become relatively invisible.

They weren't what he expected. After spending the end of last month and beginning of this month facing off against Trolls, Centaurs, Goblins, Satyr's and parasytic Demonic weapons, he expected something more...well, something more.

Not three young women.

But then again, upon further inspection, maybe they did have that extra intensity just in a new way.

Not hideous monstrosity, but devilish beauty.

At the center, the tallest woman moved like a ghost. Her clothy dress draped over her shoulders and body giving her an almost an ethereal form. As they swayed and searched through the woodlands he realized the clothing was more of a toga with all its extra draping fabrics in a stylized manner.

The dresses hung on them in varying colors. He couldn't take his eyes off the woman at the center. She stood out like a sun amidst the night sky. Even her dress matched its color in all its intense yellow glory. It clashed beautifully against her impossibly dark ebony skin that was completely unblemished-- much like Rollan's. But where he looked aged and worn, she was matured-- yet untouched by weathering or imperfections.

No wrinkles lined her bright black almond eyes that shined like lights over a lake. No wrinkles appeared at the edges of her full glossy lips either that seemed to pucker in preparation to kiss the world. And to no one's surprise, her hair was perfect.

It laid tightly against her scalp as smooth intracate braids that unfurled into a beautiful mess of curls ponytailed at the back of her head. The perfect blend of function and style.

The woman to her right whispered something to her, quickly reminding him that there were others despite the way she sucked up all existence around her. Or maybe just the importance.

It took a bit of effort, but he peeled his gaze away from the central woman and looked to the one whispering to her.

She was just as beautiful-- as if meant to please anyone who didn't find the other attractive.

In many ways she was the polar opposite of the other woman. Where the one walking at the center was slender, sleek and exuding superiority, the woman at her right was fuller, smaller and held a wild look in her eyes and at the edges of her full lips glossed with black lip stick. Like an odd mix of cute, dark and seductive.

The toga hung against her smaller body in a shade of black that reminded him of something white being tossed into a bucket of coal. The color was smoky almost. When the winds pushed against her, it wrapped the dressing tightly over her lithe frame, revealing an hour glass figure that the other lacked in such an intense way.

Along with the winds pushing the toga against her, it also showed the deep contrast between the black fabrics and her skin. A shade so pale, she stood out strongly in the dark forest. Her straight blonde hair only made matters worse as it reflected the scarce amount of light with its oily sheen.

She continued to whisper and talk quietly, seeming to be the most vocal of the group. Now she spoke to the woman on the left.

Claude's eyes followed the direction of her words as they approached in the distance.

The woman to the left was of a matching level of unattainable beauty. But, where the two previous women were polar opposites, she was a healthy blend of both. Holding an even weight-- nothing extremely thin like the center woman or curvy like the one to the right. Just even-- lean. Even her skin was a mix of both, showing as a radiant bronze under the moonlight that broke through the trees above. It was a shade much similar to his own. As was her hair color that curled like springs down her shoulders to blend nicely with her purple toga.

"[Easy, Claude. Some of the worst Monsters gain their reputation from deceit. Don't let your eyes be the source of your information....look at them. You're meant to like what you see, to have your guard dropped effortlessly. Look with all your senses.]"

Claude agreed with Arne's statement. There were a number of Monsters meant to pull unsuspecting humans with any number of attractive features. They could be no different...but he had less and less time to find out if that was true or not. They were close enough that he could hear their voices over the crushing beat of the cold winds.

Luckily, the winds were pushing against his face-- carrying the scents of them to him in complete clarity.

He inhaled, bringing the gusts in quicker and with more intensity. The smells came in a chaotic mix that he struggled with-- but successfully deciphered.

Behind the powerful overtones of grass, bark, and animals, he smelled....something he couldn't put a name too. It was a common scent made potent. The scent that radiates off a person after they step inside from walking through a windy colder climate outside. They smelled like.....wind. And the most alarming-- rot. It was faint, but it hung on the air nonetheless, flowing from their wisping togas as if it were conveying a past memory of when the clothing was once doused in blood and guts.

They looked human. Nothing about them smelled that way. They walked through the forest unbothered-- with inhuman levels of beauty and smelled of wind and violence.

Any thought that they may not have been the storm sisters was banished from his mind. He needed to move, and he needed an advantage.

His mind went to work in a flash, spinning together a web of a plan soon after. No speech was needed, the pack was connected through more than vocal language.

They all waited at his sides in silence as he reached out to the wooded area the three beautiful Monsters wadded through.

CRCKRKRCRK!

His magic bloomed to life, manipulating the branches and bushes behind him to explode in growth to an alarming degree that had the three spinning. Despite their calm approach, they were already on guard. Whoever they fought against before left them with a firm memory of what would welcome them when they entered the forest...

The second they turned to eye the assumed threat, the pack moved with the wind.

Claude needed to get closer, he couldn't risk missing his shot. Frosty moved for a similar reason, Gil hung behind, no care for the distance since his flaming javelins always seemed to find their targets. From behind him, the Phantom Wolves spread through the forest like an unseen dark virus.

By the time they turned back around, he could see the awareness clear on their faces. He could hear them.

"Keep your guard up. That withering shit Rollan could be anywhere....last time he came out of a tree. Don't repeat the same mistakes." The center woman hissed at the two others while she warily looked around the forest.

Claude ignored the latter part of their conversation. It didn't matter. All that mattered was his next move....he could feel the beginnings of violence in the pits of his stomach. He gave in.

FWOOSH!