Shay Cormac Connolly - Male - 29 - Baker - Mentions: Salem Grace

Shay stared right back at the stranger that had approached him, undaunted by the cross look she now was giving him. It helped that he was slightly taller than her; it was easier to look down at someone than to have to stand on equal footing with them in terms of height. Shay personally hated confrontation, simply because it meant that he had to actually say something, but it was made easier by her being smaller than him.

He stared hard at her after she spoke up, asking him what he was doing in the forest. Was it really any of her business? Why should what he was doing be of concern to her? Okay, maybe Shay looked slightly suspcious. And by slightly, he meant absolutely. But that was somewhat besides the point. He was wandering out into the forest on his own, for no particular reason. Explaining that would probably make him sound crazier.

Okay, well, nothing could probably make him seem crazier than the fact that he was even out here. Shay debated whether he should actually answer or not for a long moment. Maybe he should just answer. Then maybe she'd just leave him alone. And so finally, for the first time today, Shay finally spoke.

"I am walking."

There. Simple enough. That was an answer. His voice was a bit rough from disuse, but it sounded about monotone as he usually did, so Shay was content enough with that. Maybe now he could be left alone. His gaze flicked up to the tree tops as he heard the faint rustling of leaves, but he assumed it was likely just a bird, a thought which was confirmed a moment later as the bird decided to scream to the entire forest that it had just taken to the air again. Or something like that. Shay wanted to imagine that was what had just happened.

It was a very interesting visual, he had to admit.

Mike Cliffman-Male-20-Shifter-Barn Owl- Mentions: Sabine D'Ahma, Nyx(Indirectly)

If there was one thing he learned, it was to look up when shifting, if he ever looked at all. As far as he knew, none of the other shifters ever looked up, something that was a big mistake. He watched her as she called out to Nyx, asking if they found anything. She was Sabine D’Ahma, if he recalled correctly. Given the fact she shifted into a horse, he guessed he was correct.

He had, as always, stayed up all night, and was planning to go to sleep later; now that the hunters were here, however, it got more difficult to explain his nighttime hunting. Normal humans would go out with a torch, or not go out at all; he did neither of those. Of course, there was the other option of pretending to move and just staying in his owl form full time, but the longer he stayed an owl, the more he acted and thought like an owl. So, that option was going to be a firm no, unless he was forced to.

“You know, if you wanted to shift without hunters finding you, I’d suggest looking up next time.” He called out to her, his voice sounding like a smirk. Of course, he couldn’t smirk in owl form, but his voice said it all.

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead taking off from the branch he had landed on. He flew in a circle; a widening circle, but a circle nonetheless, in case she answered. He did this to see if there were any hunters around, but there proved to be none. As he finished the circle, he went and sat on the same branch as before, but this time facing the north, so as to get a glimpse of Fellborn. He hadn’t seen it all night, as his custom, so he was relieved when he got a small look at one of the houses; which one, he didn’t know.

(I'll be reading all of the posts I missed while I slept ;w;)

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

“Thanks, for accompanying me,” Horace ruffled Michael's blonde hair a bit, it was so easy to do… All he had to do was just lift his hand. He started walking towards Ren’s place. Now that he looked closer to the wooden cottage, it looked abandoned. He knocked on the wooden building but there was no response. Once he looked inside his suspicions were true. “Ren must be out,” Horace sighed as he started walking towards the farm. Listening to Michael with all of his attention. “I mean, I figured the panther was a shifter, but she sure didn’t act like one,” Horace thought about it for a little bit before talking again, “Wait- his sister?” Horace placed a hand on the left side of his face. “So that panther was her?” A soft chuckle escaped Horace.

“I literally just fed her fish like a dog,” He exhaled slowly. “Oh, don’t trouble yourself with it, I’m sure I could care for one on my own.” Horace ruffled his own black hair now, they were nearing the farm, and without his haggling friend Ren, he didn’t know how to deal with the price of horses. “I’ve been saving up for one, but I still can’t afford a wagon nor reins. Just one, mere horse,” Horace lifted up the pouch that was full of his wages for the past 5 years. He’s been saving even before the hunters arrived. “Fat chance, Ren’s probably out making a deal with one of the other taverns,” Now that he thought about it, the more it seemed to be true. “I’ve only heard rumors about that incident, my father went to consult them but I stayed behind,” Horace sighed solemnly.

“I didn’t pay much attention to her eyes, just mainly the coloring of her pelt.” He brought his attention back to what Michael said earlier. “It’s not it’s anything deeper or personal, I just believe that all animals are magnificent in their own way,” Horace planted his left hand on the back of his neck, warming it up. The entire time he only talked loud enough for the two to hear each other. They were nearing the farm, he leaned against the fencing, looking to Michael. “I really don’t know what to do here, should we wait for one of them to come?”

Laark Umbra / F / 19 / Hunter / Mentions: Sabine, Nyx, Mike

Laark knew the people of Fellborn disliked the hunters, she could see why. Laark was just doing her job, though she did have a reason behind it. A sad, pathetic, reason. With her legs outstretched before her, she let her hair ruffled with the light breeze. She slid one of her throwing daggers against an edged rock, sending small flint sparks onto the ground as she sharpened the weapon. The sparks died before hitting the ground, so she didn’t worry about a fire starting. She grabbed the ends of her cloak, pulling it over her as she heard hooves beating against the floor. Up in the pine tree, she moved a few needles out of the way to get a good look at a gorgeous white horse galloping. It seemed to stop, noticing a snowy owl gliding over it. When it whinnied out to the owl, it had confirmed Laark’s suspicion. Shifters. That’s when she heard a wolf howl back in the distance, and a barn owl glide over their heads. Was that also a shifter? Laark was silent, so silent not even the most sensitive ears could hear her coming. She rose on the branch, hidden by the pines, her cloak added to the camouflage.

She flipped her throwing dagger into a good position for aiming. The horse would be a good target, but not very infiltrated by the dagger since it was much larger than average. The owl, on the other hand, would be a good shot. If she managed to hit its wing, it could crash and weakly turn back into a human. Or perhaps she should go for the wolf. A guilty feeling washed over Laark. She didn’t want to kill… no... she did. Did she? I’m a hunter, this is my job, this is what I was meant to do. Just-throw… the dagger… before they notice that someone’s watching them. Perhaps, this time she would let them go.

Salem Grace - Female - 19 - Scout - mentions: Shay

Salem watched and waited eagerly for his reply. What was his business in the forest anyway, she went out to clear her head, maybe he was the same?

Salem shuffled her feet whilst waiting for what felt like forever on his reply. She looked down at her feet observing the ground for some more small bones that she could turn into trinkets, and then his reply struck. His deeper monotone voice rippling through the windy air.

She brought up her gaze to his again, feeling slightly embarrassed that she had to lift her face to really see his. She scoffed under her breath at the the sudden feeling and brushed it off as her just being short and being insecure about it. Her icy blue gaze searched his eyes for ulterior motive, however there was barely anything there. It didn't even seem like he had a soul in there. Not surprising.

Her gaze turned to glare, flitting from one feature to the next, if there was any sort of ulterior motive.. Would it show on his almost expressionless face? Probably not. Her stare relaxed again and she sighed.

A sudden scream of a bird rattled around in an echo from tree to tree, she could feel his eyes leave her to look at the bird just before it. She hated birds, they gave her the creeps. It was animals like them that killed her mother, rodents too. She loves all other animals though, she was especially fond of foxes. She frowned at the thought of her mother and her bottom lip quivered for a moment, then she shook her head to rid herself of the thought.

"Well, what's your name? I haven't seen you around before... Are you from around here?" She inquired. Her facial expression settling on a curious one, her head was tilted a bit and her eyebrows a bit furrowed. She didn't strike him as a threat, but he wasn't friendly either.

Two can play at that game. She thought with a smirk.

The owls soft eyes narrowed when the horse called her, Sabine, another scout, they'd done some missions together and she seemed like a fun girl, though speaking this close to the village unnerved her. Sam had a nose that could detect almost any smell, around him she felt she was safe. He knew what he was doing.
She was about to reply with a soft hoo when another creature spoke- a barn owl, Mike.

Unlike most owls her species was diurnal, mostly active during the day but doesn't shy away from hunting at night.
She watched Mike fly around before landing again, the distraction was all she needed, the sound of an arrow hitting wood alerted her and in the direction of the sound was a humans silhoutte.

Without thinking twice she let out a distressed screech like that a wild owl would do so close to death and flew away with frantic flaps that were eerily silent.
The fletching of the arrow was a familiar one, every archer had their own style of bow, that one belonged to Tallinn, a shifter who had been hidden when the hunters arived, they hadn't spoken much but she was grateful for the girls warning.

She spotted her brother now in human form nocking an arrow but before he could fire she let out another screech, a warning for her brother before continueing to fly away, shifting or talking to him here wouldn't be the smartest idea when hunters were in the area.

She landed on an old tree with a hollow in it, she had claimed it as hers, fighting off any other owl, wild or shifter, who wanted it.
Its where she kept everything that would reveal her as a shifter but was to precious to throw away; like her mothers owl pendant.
The pendant was a moonstone carved in the shape of a snowy owl, a trinket past down in the Jäger family years before she was born- her mother was the last Jäger and when she married her father it turned into Brooks.

Finyx shifted outside of her hollow and grabbed the bow and arrows she'd hidden in it before making her way slowly back to the village.

Laark Umbra / F / 19 / Hunter / Mentions: Tallin, The other hunters, Nyx, Sabine, Sam

Laark didn’t have it in her to kill another human-even if it was a shifter in its animal form. They just seemed too elegant and peaceful. If the other hunters saw me hesitating like this… Laark pushed away from the thought, settling down back onto the branch, yet her dagger was still out. Her hood was looped over her face, yet her heterochromatic eyes shown iridescently hidden behind the pines. She was silent, very silent. But if one were to approach from behind the near bare pine, they could spot the back of Laark. That’s when she heard it.

Very slyly she focused on the corner of her eye. A wolf, shifting into a human form. She couldn’t see much, they also had a hood over themselves, but it was obviously a female. Once she saw the bow pull, she waited. Even Laark could see it was off from her body before she shot it, so she stayed still. But once she shifted from her animal form and attempted to get Laark’s attention, Laark just stayed there. It was obvious this shifter was skilled in the bow. Although Lark was skilled in ranged and close combat, she specialized in throwing daggers. If Laark got close enough, she could win the fight, but ranged like this, with a skilled bowman? No thanks.

That’s when she heard the owl screech and fly off to a hidden location, Laark took notice of where she went but was quickly distracted when one of the wolves transformed into a tall man. He immediately pulled out his bow and had an arrow ready, aiming right at her. That bitch gave me away. Laark pushed back her head and leaped from her spot onto another tree. By now her hoody was flopped behind her, revealing her long black hair with blue tints hidden in its wavy features, yet her heterochromatic eyes were shaded by her hunched shadow as she alighted down a tree with haste. She charged the man with great speed, she was much better with close combat, so she took a leap at him and locked her legs around his neck area. She wasn’t about to let this man shift back into his wolf form, if he did, Laark would be in trouble.

Quickly she pulled two jagged daggers from her waist and pressed it against the man’s throat, above where her legs had been choking. He couldn’t hit her with a bow when she was so close to him. She noted that he had dark brown hair, lean, and stood tall. She couldn’t spot her eyes, but the given formation she had seen was now enough.