Elizabeth Winters - Feminine - 21 - cook - mentions: Mary-Ann

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Eliza notices the small form of one of a child wandering the streets. The little girl looked lost and the blonde made the decision to go over and see if she needed help. As she approached the girl she started to pick out an age category of six through ten. She was rather cute if Eliza has to say. She called out to the girl. *Hey! Are you lost?*

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There weren’t many children around this part of town, generally, unless their parents were taking them somewhere nice to eat or a friend lived here. Even then there weren’t many. Most people were single or didn’t want children even if they liked them. Eliza was more on the fence with that concept, though. Not really sure what she wanted.

Clyde Rivers - Male - 28 - Lead Hunter - Mentions: Tove

The lead hunter sighed, looking down at the girl. He wasn't quite in the mood to talk to someone, especially someone living in this town. He still kept himself hidden from view, only his mouth visible to the stranger. For a while, he just stared at her. Then, he decided to speak.

"What?" He said in a slightly irritated tone. He was quite angry with the girl for bothering him, but that was the most he showed. In fact, he never showed anything even remotely close to how much anger he actually felt. Which was normally a lot. He just wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible so he could leave.

Her blue eyes looked up to the tall man as he addressed her in a slightly irritated tone. "I was just gonna help you." She said in a steady tone. "You sme-" She paused quickly "Look new." hoping he didnt hear her slip. Tove chose to continue talking to ease the mood, hoping he'd find a better one. She adjusted the white coyote pelt on her back, almost forgetting about the rabbit tied to her waist. She untied it, "Here, i hope you find your way around." Tove mumbled, handing him the dead rabbit.

((Sorry its short >.<))

Horace Umbra / M / 23 / Fisherman / Polar Bear / Mentions: Nala, Ren, Michael, Maximillian, Jackson

20 silver a night. Horace only held 209 silver in his pouch. He could afford the reins, wagon, and horse which was surprising. It really was dirt cheap… He’d have to find another way for the nights, but he kept his thoughts quiet. Before Ren could try to haggle the price even lower, Horace slapped his hand over his mouth, stopping him from making audible words. “Thank you, the deal is made,” Horace shook Nala’s hand. “If you don’t mind, I could-“ His voice was cut off when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He stuttered and looked back to see who it was. He flinched as the tall man who called himself Maximillian held a pouch in front of him. After hearing his words Horace shakily clasped the pouch and looked inside. There was enough silver in there to last the horse for 7 days at the farm.

Even though the man sent chills deep down Horace, he still thanked him and turned back to the girl, adding 20 more silver into the pouch he had given her. Horace directed his attention towards Michael, he couldn’t stop a laugh coming out when he described himself. “I don’t mind getting the papers tomorrow from Dreyvon,” He filtered his hand over the wagon. It was made of fine wood. His nose twitched-that wasn’t a good sign. Horace looked around for the danger and peering through the horses stood a large wolf, but before Horace could force out any words, it pounced on top the yak and darted off back to the village. He saw the lean form looked to his side, and that’s when Horace knew his suspicions were correct. He analyzed his golden earring on his side that read; “Maximillian Trujillu, The Bear Hunter “ Anyone could see Horace’s eyes harden when he read those italic words. This man specialized in hunting Horace’s kind. Just like that Horace stepped a couple of feet back, dazed by what he saw, how fast the man was to react to the wolf.

Maximillian Trujillu / M / 28 / Hunter / Mentions: Everyone at the farm, Jackson

Maximillian shook Nala’s hand firmly before patting his yak on the head. It was obvious to Max that the one who went by Horace was having trouble when she said 20 silver a night. All the kid wanted was a damned horse. Maxmillian clasped one of the pouches from his yak and tapped the boy on the shoulder. “Take it, no buts, I don’t wanna hear it,” Max gave the pouch over to Horace. The boy seemed especially wary of him. I wonder why… Just before Max could analyze his surroundings, he saw a wolf leap onto the yak and steal one of his bags that were full of his beverage. Quickly, Max reached under the yak, snatching his crossbow that was especially hidden under all of its golden locks and crouched onto one knee.

He focused his aim at its paw, the wolf was tumbling fast, but once he pulled the trigger the metal-tipped arrow split the air and directly landed on its wrist. He got back to his full height, gripping tightly onto Yaks horn trying not to let him charge the village out of aggressive anger. Once the beast calmed down, he hooked his crossbow back under the beast, nodding to Nala before jogging towards his target. “I’ll be back tomorrow to retrieve him,” He spat out his words bluntly before reaching the wolf. It had led him towards a girl. A bloodied one at that. Maximillian dropped to one knee, lifted her hand and placed two rough fingers against her wrist, checking the pulse. It was slow, but still alive. He checked around for the wound and found the source. He poured one of his alcohol pouches he had in his hand earlier directly onto the wound, cleaning it out with haste.

*boop*

Laark Umbra / F / 19 / Hunter / Mentions: shifters,

Laark had watched the death caps liquefy until the vial was full. She sheathed her sword and gripped onto the vial, pulling it out of her little holder before placing it by her other poison vials. She’d have to test the poison out with one of her testing daggers. She felt around for the one she usually tested on, but it wasn’t there.

Shit. I left it back by the shifters…

Laark groaned. She really didn’t want to make the hike back with the pain throbbing at her chest. It’d take her 3 more gold to get the same dagger. She wasn’t looking up to that day. If one of those shifters did take it, she’d have to kill them to get it. Or threaten to kill them to get it. Laark slapped both of her hands over her eyes.

That dagger costs more than my life, damn!

She pushed dirt into the fire, but it hissed back in rebellion and gracefully continued to dance with its blazing fury. Like Laark. She swiped more piles of dirt into the fire until it died out. Double-checking it was dead, she fed another stick to it. Yup. All her work was demolished now. With a frustrated mind and exhausted body, she pulled her cape over her body like a blanket and got into a sleeping position, trying to calm her nerves.

Let’s hope for those shifters sake that tomorrow that dagger is still there,

She couldn’t help but drift off into a heavy slumber with the warmth of the dead fire that had cradled her entire body.

Salem Grace - Female - 19 - Scout - mentions: Jackson(Not much though, he's just there lol) & Max

Salem laid on the ground in pain for what felt like forever. The sounds around her seemed to go in slow-motion and her breaths that she drew in were sharp and brisk. Her ribs hurt, maybe she cracked one? It was at least a serious bruise. Her knees ached as well, some scrapes probably occurred during the fall as well. Salem's head buzzed and pounded and her fingers tingled with numbness. Her body felt hot and cold all at the same time. It was just so confusing. Even the sun seemed brighter than before, she could tell because she opened her eyes and it felt like she was going blind.

Salem strained her ears to see if she could hear anything. It was all pretty fuzzy but she thought she could hear some footsteps. She opened her eyes a bit to see if there was someone but the sun just blinded her again. She felt the ground shake a bit as someone dropped to the ground next to her. Salem stirred a bit as she felt her hand lift which angled her shoulder up a bit, she parted her lips to release a painful, soft gasp. Then two fingers roughly pressed against her wrist. What were they doing? She thought as a sound popped near her ear. She flinched, it hurt her ear, seemingly louder to her than them.

A sudden cold liquid poured down her face, specifically over the wound on her forehead. It stung so bad that it felt like needles were being jammed into her head one hundred times over again. She clenched her teeth and drew in some breath. She liberated a cry as the liquid continued in a consistent stream over her wound. Salem wasn't sure if it was a flesh wound or not, she hoped it was. Maybe she just suffered a terrible migraine from the fall?

As the pouring continued, so did the pain. The pain was so loathsome that Salem's toes curled in her boots and her hands balled up in tingly fists. Her body tensed in a stiff and uncomfortable position as well. However, the horrible stinging came to an end as the liquid stopped pouring, all that was pouring now was the tears streaming from her eyes. Her fists released from the balls they were in and her body relaxed a bit. She just wanted to cry it all away, she wished her mother were here to comfort her too. There were a million little things she wanted and 99% of them all traced back to her mother and some sort of comfort, the ground was giving her quite the opposite. Stones jabbed into her skin in the most uncomfortable places.

She tried shifting her body into a more pleasant position but she soon realized that the horrible pain was inevitable. Salem was just sore everywhere. She had to say something, maybe something along the lines of, get me out of here? please? That would be nice but all she could fumble out was, "O-out of h-here." She couldn't make the whole sentence but Salem hoped he or she understood. Her jaw was feeling the fall and her tongue was quite sore.

Sabine sat down with her back against the cave wall. It had been a long day, and she was glad to finally get some rest. Of course she would have to make up a convincing story about why she was gone, but that would be no problem. She was a natural born storyteller and also vould master her emotions, so that no one would no she was lying... But Sabine always tried to make her lies be more of a stretch of the truth, and have a little evidence supporting them.

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Sabine put her head against the wall and tried to relax, but she couldn't. She couldn't shake the feeling like she'd forgotten something... Whatever it was, it felt very wrong. Her animal sense deep inside her told her to beware. But Sabine couldn't place what the dangerous thing was. Shaking her head, she finally dozed off in a fitful sleep.

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The Hunter was back. And this time she was nit alone. There were probably 10 others with her, all carrying poisoned weapons, and they had only one intention. Kill her, and her friends. The Hunter went straight for Sam, who was trying to help Tallinn. For some reason, they didn't seem to see the Hunters. Sabine jept trying to get them to run. That there were too many to fight, but they couldn't hear her! Nyx, Sam, and Artem all stood with their backs to the advancing Hunters. The hunter from yesterday raised her weapon, and brought it down, attempting to plunge it into Sam. "Nooooooo!" She screamed and threw herself in between her friend and the weapon. The poison dagger cut cleanly across her side.

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Sabine woke up from her nightmare gasping and covered in sweat. The dagger! It's still out there! If it fell back into the Hunter's hands... Sabine shuddered think what would happen if the hunter got that deadly dagger back. She would come back for revenge, and Sabine's dream could turn into reality. I have to get that dagger! She thought determinedly.

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Glancing back at the others, they seemed preoccupied. Nyx and Sam were helping Tallinn, and Mike was still uncouncious. Sabune thought now was a good time to sneak out. If the others new what she was trying to do, they might try to stop her, or worse- come with her and put them all in danger again. No, it was better just to go alone.

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She slowly picked up her satchel and made sure all her weapons were still on her body. All her daggers were hidden in various places. Check. Her still had her twin blades strapped onto her back on either side of her quiver. Check. And she had her bow. Check. Sabine snuck out of the cave, careful not to make a sound, when she saw Artem. Uh oh. She'd forgotten about him. Maybe he wouldn't notice her sneak out. Hopefully that wad the case. Because Sabine darted past him and dissappeared into the nighttime forest.

Maximillian Trujillu / M / 28 / Hunter / Mentions: Salem, Laark, The shifters

He felt the girl tremble as he poured the alcohol onto her open wound. Once the pouch was emptied he ripped it open and pressed it against the wound to stop it from bleeding. He didn’t know much about wound mending, only to make sure it isn’t infected and to stop the bleeding by putting pressure against it. It was all he really needed to do to survive. He heard the girl mumble some words, but he couldn’t make any sense of it. He didn’t know why he found himself caring for this girl, he didn’t even know her. He swiveled around to see another man walking up to him. “You take her,” Max stood to his full height, placing his hand onto the man’s shoulder before patting it and walking off. His words were blunt, short, and not full of any emotion. Just out Maximillian was taught.

He brushed through the trees of the forest, he didn’t care for the girl anymore, his entire demeanor had changed. Laark said she would meet him by the center of the town in the afternoon, but now that he hadn’t seen any sight of her, a small part of him began to worry. He placed his hand on one of the birch trees, it was marked by one of her jagged daggers. Laark always seemed to leave scavenger hunts for the man, which led him to release a chuckle as he followed the arrow to another tree. After weaving through the thin and thick, he managed to find an arrow pointing upwards. He gripped onto one of the branches heaving himself up. To his surprise, it seemed he had arrived at the destination. Yet Laark was nowhere to be found. He knew better than to call out her name, but once his eyes drifted to the ground, he couldn’t help but have his eyebrow twitch in anger. He descended down the tree, looking towards what seemed to be the center of a fight scene. The grass was skid along, obvious struggle, twigs were snapped and the tracks of hooves seemed to trail towards the main struggle. Max drifted his hand along with the barren scene, anger-provoking him further.

The tracks trailed off slightly, a sign of someone trying to mask their trails. He could still see the transformation in the tracks, blood was on the ground. Laark had cut one of the shifters. He dipped his finger to the ground, finding that she had used her poison. Observing the area more, he saw a dagger skid mark. Following the line, it led into a small crevice, there, he could see Laark’s dagger stuck between the rocks. His rough and thick fingers couldn’t fit through it, neither could any human’s fingers fit. He’d have to contact Laark in some way to retrieve the dagger by digging. He ignored it for now, following the trails that hadn’t been masked. The footmark seemed to fit Laarks and someone else, both feminine. She retreated? From shifters? I’ll show them… Max’s eye twitched in frustration as he followed the masked trails, slowly, making sure he was on track.