LIQUID BURGUNDY // open

[yara]

ARC 2

in the end

Dire wolves howl at the moon hovering slowly in a pool of infinite stars. Yara stares patiently at nothing as if awaiting a miracle from the Gods to suddenly appear.

…

With bent knees and crossed fingers he balances himself upon a branch of a great oak tree in the middle of a dark forest. He hears nothing but the melody of the dire wolves praying to their God for the destination of their next meal. The Alpha wolf smells the sweat and blood of Yara who hovers in the leaves just above his pack. He knows of their hunger and smiles deviously to the thought of their failed attempts at making his body their nourishment. The sound of the wolves licking their teeth at the smell of his skin entices the demon within him. The grip upon his kunai blade tightens as he imagines each of their deaths. Get on with it.. he says to himself with a large and exaggerated exhale. His eyes slowly close as he prepares himself for an attack and open swiftly in the moment he is ready.

Slowly the muscles in his legs begin to loosen as his mind relays the facts of his current situation. His back straightens as his legs rise, getting himself ready for a swift downward departure. There are four giant wolves beneath him and he holds only one kunai blade so he knows the chances of him winning this fight are slim. I am a warrior.. he reminds himself with a dramatic inhale. Every second that pulls by in this moment drags him deeper into the darkest part of his mind. As he exhales an energy inside of him breaks open the metaphorical gate that cages the killer inside of him. In this very moment you could see the concentration emanating from his eyes. His pupils dilate as the moon slowly creeps overhead giving him a small window of light.

[Moon]

Grunts, canine and rough, shadows edged like scythes, fang-smell and how black tastes, and the remnants of other meals now visceral stains matting four writhing masses of hunger - wolves. Things more than wolves. Kuhaia had felt-saw them for some time, and began making his way through the Great Oak Throng with quiet haste. What was out here, disturbing his simple forest training, in this place intentionally bent away from random travelers by a verdant green curve? The creatures of the wilds did not usually make such loud commotion, and as he checked the time yup, seven pm - he realized it was far too early in the night for this to simply be howling at the moon.

Kuhaia pondered his feelings as he dashed through plants taller than he was. His training had only been for a few weeks so far, but already he'd developed a feeling of ownership over the forest. He questioned whether such feelings were right, if it was was possible to really own anything - he wondered if the illusion of separation from other phenomena led to the desire for gain, for greed. If so, what was reality? Was this wolves howling at the moon, or a forest deaf to the things that make it their home, or a dirty sliver of a dirty sliver of the world beneath bone-pale light, destined to be destroyed with morning...

Breathing. Skin. Sweat. Anxiety and surrender, and despair like a great splash of oil, separate, atop aggression. Kuhaia felt them, the signifiers of a human, something rattling the trees just slightly with its weight and breath. The wolves had a meal in mind. Kuhaia approached, five meters from the scene, seemingly ignored by the wolves. He did not offer any assistance immediately only watched, training his senses on the human, on the wolves, on trees surrounding them, and the damaged fragments of wooden husks destroyed by the wolves fury.

Eventually alerting all to his presence, Kuhaia would speak in the direction of the oak tree's top.

"Eh...did you need...help or something..?"