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Too Stubborn to Die

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Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Valdrá Eingana on Tue Oct 16, 2018 12:04 am

Tendrils of blood branched out from her feet, nearly obscured by the murkiness of the harbor water, but still visible in the dusk light for anyone actively paying attention. The harbor smelt like stagnant, mildewy water and heavy fuel oil, a smell that would come to be associated with a good many memories, this one being the first, and perhaps most painful. Valdrá Eingana had made it. Sure her body felt like brittle glass, liable to shatter at the lightest breeze, and sure her feet currently soaked in undoubtably bacteria infested water, torn open from running, but Valdrá had arrived. Her single, solitary goal for the past five unforgiving nights had been accomplished. If one were so inclined they could trace her journey back from the harbor, through the industrial district, the ghetto, and then more respectable residential neighbourhoods, all by the bloody prints she left. Like a perverse game of ʼfind the treasureʼ except all theyʼd find at the end was her, a broken drow. Valdrá laughed at the thought, the sudden noise sounding grating and unhinged even to her own ears, not to mention the orc crew that sheʼd been watching unload a freighter farther down the dock. While a few concerned looks were exchanged, no one came over to investigate and for that she was grateful. What would she say if they asked if she was okay? Where would she go if they told her to shove off? Clad in a dirty zip-up, torn leggings, hood thrown over her head and without footwear, she was not what anyone would consider ʼpresentableʼ even with her small frame of societal reference. Nearly destitute, and with no other goal to occupy her mind, she was as adrift as sheʼd ever been. She could feel herself breaking apart.

“Get it together,” Valdrá whispered to herself, her vocal cords creaking at their lack of use. To lay down and die now would be dishonorable, surely. Sheʼd sensed the presence of another of her kind somewhere within the city limits, and she had no way of knowing what her form would take if she decided to curl up right there on the docks and take her final flight. The scandal it would cause was unbearable to consider. Surely a dead 15 foot dragon found in the city harbor would be newsworthy, regardless of how multi-species that city happened to be. While sheʼd never heard talk of Twin City within her own Hoarde, she wasnʼt so naive as to think that the Old Ones werenʼt aware of itʼs existence.  

With the decision that, today at least, sheʼd not be dying, if she could help, it finally made, that left…figuring out what the hell to do next. Watching the orc crew had brought into stark relief how little she knew about others outside of her own kind, and more importantly how little she knew about drow culture in particular. Step one then: research. Couldnʼt well pass as an elf if she didnʼt know what being an elf meant, now could she? It would be a Veil Trip then. That, at least, she was familiar with. Theoretically. Infiltrate a society, get a feel for their habits, their weaknesses, determine whether they were a threat. Report back, and most importantly donʼt get caught.

Blinking back tears, she watched a crow caw overhead, making a quick circle about the dock sheʼd claimed before flying back toward the centre of the city. “So effortless,” she muttered in envy, the desire to show her Corvus friend how flying was really done all the more painful knowing she no longer could.

Poor lost Eingana, stuck on the shore
Poor lost Eingana, your brother is no more…

Poor lost Eingana, too broken to fly
Poor lost Eingana, much too poor to cry…

Poor lost Eingana … too stubborn to die

With the sun dipping into the ocean, and her connection to Dream no longer cut off entirely, her emotional state mixed with her exhaustion was making it harder and harder to keep from Weaving, even as the tattoo on her face started to glow in protest. While logically she recognized that it was her stringing together a lullaby borne out of her own self pity, that didnʼt make her any less annoyed at the part of her self she no longer knew. If she wasnʼt careful sheʼd be blowing her cover before sheʼd even created it, sending out a nightmare to any poor soul not guarded, and wouldnʼt that just be a great introduction to the neighbourhood. Terrorize anyone not in the know, and throw a big flare up to be found by anyone who was. She needed to get out of there.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Harper Fairfax on Tue Oct 16, 2018 3:42 pm

Harper had some downtime. Work had been slaving at work it felt like. All these cases had been coming her way, helping both Dom and James with murders. With James, at least it wasn't too much of an issue. They looked at murders and it was straightforward. With Dom? Ah yeah, she had run her mouth off too much and gave away too much information on herself. Not that she wasn't the type to not talk about herself....but telling everyone at work that she was related to the Valentine Mafia boss was not something she wanted to broadcast to everyone. Her Uncle JT had gotten a lot of lash back from that and they worked rather hard to keep her out of that kind of light. But it didn't really do much if she just blabbed anyways.

But that was work and this was her day off. Leaving her place of residence. Okay, really it was still her mother's second house that her and her brothers shared. It was big enough that they didn't see one another except on special occasions. They all had very drastic scheduled. It was nice to be able to share the place with them, but also have the house to herself. Westly was often out and about and Kaleb was always doing something for Fafa. Regardless, today was going to be a day she was going to go out and enjoy the day. For most of the morning, she had to grab food for herself, pay some bills and all that stuff. The errands had taken most of the day and soon it was getting close to sunset. But that wasn't going to stop Harper from having the most of her day.

After a quick change into a running outfit, the young werewolf girl took off. With music in her ear, Harper was off. She just let her legs take her where they went. Running had always felt so great. Maybe it was the beast inside of her that just enjoyed the thrill of running, or maybe it was both of them. Whatever it was, the honey eyed girl took to this sport if only to clear her mind and keep herself in shape. Step after long step took her closer and closer to the harbor. A scent had wafted into her nose, pulling out some primal part of her. A weak and injured animal was near by and the wolf in Harper wanted to go find it. Her feet shifted ever so slightly in direction, determined to find out exactly where this creature was.

It wasn't long before Harper was standing at the beginning of the dock, looking at this dark skinned elf as she started leveling her breathing again. Werewolves were driven by more primal urges than most, and some, even still, were more feral than they would like to admit. Harper was one of the lucky ones. She had a great control on her inner wolf, keeping whatever urges it had at bay unless under extreme cases. Even while full werewolf, she can keep her head on and keep out of trouble. It was a blessing she banked on more times than she could count. Just like today. Taking in a deep breath, the werewolf girl moved forward down the dock. She made herself known while walking there, so not to spook the injured girl. Injured creatures were unpredictable. They might lash out at you or they might just ignore you. Whatever the outcome was to be, Harper was ready for it.

"Hey, are you okay?" It was obvious that she wasn't, but it was just a starter question. Reaching for her water bottle, she opened it up and moved forward to this girl. "My name is Harper Fairfax. I'm a local officer here in town. Here, have some water and let's take you somewhere to get cleaned up. Do you live around here?" Upon reaching the girl, Harper offered the open water battle to her. Her honey colored eyes glanced around, trying to see any signs of a struggle or fight. All she saw was blood. How much blood did she lose? Could she walk? Returning her attention back to the girl, she waited to see what, or even how, she would answer.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Valdrá Eingana on Tue Oct 16, 2018 7:23 pm

Wide white eyes snapped to attention as she was spoken to, her hope that the footsteps that’d been so blatant would continue to be blatant right on past her. Obviously her luck in that regard had run out. And what was more, she’d already caught the attention of the city’s guard. She’d heard chatter concerning “officers” in her previous…residence, and had surmised over the course of a year that they were largely incompetent, if her understanding of what function they were supposed to serve were anything to go on. Cocking her head, she looked over the girl…woman…person and couldn’t help but note how…small she seemed to be for someone in a position of peacekeeper. Perhaps that had been part of the human city’s problem, their guards were just too small.

“Are you all this size?” She asked, frowning in genuine confusion, glancing a moment at the orc’s farther down the dock, before back at the woman in front of her. She’d decided she must be a woman, it would be simply madness to have a child guard. Surely. It never occurred to her that her own form was in no position to be speaking about size of all things. Still, she was being rude, and quickly took the bottle offered her. She didn’t drink from it, nor did she move her eyes from the officer called Harper, though. Watching the woman looking around, and knowing what she saw without looking herself, she could only assume what the woman might have thought. What would she have thought, if a stranger had wondered into their valley, bleeding all over the place with no care for healing themselves properly? Probably not very highly. But again, she was being rude. She’d been asked a question and offered a name, hadn’t she? Necessarily she had to reply, right? Sure, Harper had approached in much the same manner as hesitant humans had approached her months before, needing constant assurance she would not — could not — bite them. But she couldn’t blame her for being cautious, even if she did once again feel caged.

“My name is Va-,” she stopped mid-vowel, eyes getting wide again. Was Valdrá a drow name? Probably not. Was giving her true name to a guard a good idea? Definitely not. “Dreee-,” oh she was blowing this,“-aam?” She blinked a moment, before nodding, as if she was equally dubious about what she was saying as she could only imagine Harper to be. Yep. Dream. Really making a mess of this already. An obvious lie, but not a complete one, depending on your perspective. “Iʼm not … from here.” She added, as way of explanation, still considering whether admitting that bit of truth was the right decision or not. After all maybe if she insisted she lived near by, that would appease the woman enough to be on her way? Doubtful. It wasnʼt as if she was just some concerned citizen playing nice with the stray rabble after all, looking to get in a good deed. Still, her claws were intent on grasping those maybes.

“Iʼm fine though, really.” Absolutely, perfectly, fine. Nothing to see here.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Harper Fairfax on Thu Oct 18, 2018 5:08 pm

The question had honestly come out of left field. In all honestly, it sort of made Harper feel a bit embarrassed. Taking a look at herself, she completely judged how tall she was. Was she just not tall enough? Was she too tall? Shifting a bit uncomfortably, Harper commented back. "I mean I'm about average height? Maybe slightly taller than average height when it comes to my kind. Elves can be much taller still. Though, you seem to have gotten the short end of the stick." It was a rude comment,, yeah, but her height had come into question! Harper was very proud of her height. Not too tall, not too short. The right height to be married to a guy six foot and up. Was it a bit shallow of her to want to marry a guy that was six foot and up? On one hand, yes. But if you looked at her entire family, everyone, and I mean every guy, was six foot and taller. She couldn't take any risks.

But that was not really the point at the moment. Clearing her throat, the werewolf continued to observed the other woman. From what Harper could tell, she was not looking like she was on the attack. Still very much nervous about something, but not ready to attack. This put the she wolf at ease, and hopefully, put the other girl in a calmer spot. From what could be seen, this girl was badly injured by something. Or maybe someone one. The law was a bit tricky. Unless they put in some kind of assault charge or the like, or they had found a dead body at the scene, there was nothing she could do for the girl. At least where the law was concerned. Helping her get on her feet, new clothes, food, a bath, all that was more on the compassion side. It was a step above the law and something Harper herself liked to do. Helping others was the entire reason why she wanted to be a cop. Not to be sitting behind a desk looking at dead bodies to people who were beyond help.

Her attention was pulled back to the girl as she begun saying a name. Or at least calling herself something. Vadreaam was what Harper settled on. If that was her actual name and it just took a bit to say or if this was a cover name, Harper neither new nor cared to know. Why? Well to be completely honestly, this was a city filled with mythical creatures and magic. If someone wanted to fake a name right now to get out of something, she had no issue with her. The girl did not hurt anyone, or at least there was no evidence, so that was that. "Vadreaam. Sounds nice actually. Alright Vadreaam, I think we need to get you cleaned up at least. If I found you, I know about twenty other people are going to find you and get a bit interested. You don't live close to the docks? Or you simply don't live here in the city?"

She asked the question, but Harper felt as if she knew the answer. This Drow girl likely didn't live here in the city. So, it was time to find a place to get her cleaned up. Thankfully, they were at the harbor. There were plenty of public bathrooms and a few Hoursons running around who could or would help her. The trick was to find the right sailor and restroom. After a bit of searching, Harper found one down the pier and close to the new one. No ship docked there so no one would give them much issue. Truth be told, Harper would much rather take her to her own home, but that was a far walk and this girl needed a bit more attention here and now rather than later. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up at least. There is a restroom over there we can use that no one will bother us. If you're hungry, I'll fetch you something to eat. Maybe you can tell me a bit more about your situation, Vadreaam. I have a place you can stay if you want, but that's a bit of a walk. I want to make sure you aren't bleeding out before I offer you that place."

Harper pointed to the restroom over by the next pier. If the other girl would allow her, Harper would help her get there. Though, if she really did refuse, then the werewolf was going to have to think of another way to help her. maybe get her food and just sit at the end of the dock with her. It was getting late and a lot of creatures liked the night. Her just sitting out wasn't exactly the best. At least, not alone.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Valdrá Eingana on Sat Oct 20, 2018 2:19 am

“Have I?” Valdrá/ Vadreaam frowned at the comment on her own height, looking down at herself as if for the first time, before looking back at Harper for comparison. Wouldnʼt that just fit right in with her string of luck up to that point, that sheʼd be stuck in a body that didnʼt even need to be so small by elf standards. Her true form hadnʼt exactly been on the large end of the scale by her own kinds standards either, to be honest, but it was certainly more substantial than the form she had now. Or the form the woman in front of her had, for that matter. Of course, what size she ought to have been didnʼt much matter in light of what size she currently was, and as she looked with pure bafflement at her twiggy hands, not at all sure how humanoidʼs survived, she supposed it was something she was going to have to quickly get used to. At the very least she had better act like she was used to it, quickly dropping her hand at the thought of how bizarre she must look struck her, shifting her attention back toward Harper.

Vadreaam. Nearly rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, not entirely able to tell if the woman was just humoring her, or truly believed that to be her name, that didnʼt particularly matter at the moment, either, as mention of being found was made. Being found was bad. Being found did not fit into her newly, still evolving, plan. In fact, being found was anti-plan. White eyes finally taking in blood stains soaking into the wood, and further off, the tracks, like giant neon lights right to her. It took some effort not to burst into tears right then and there. Not even a day in the city and she was going to expose herself. Maybe she did really want to die, after all.

Finally pulling her feet from the water, Valdrá stood up, even more defeated to note that she did in fact stand about two heads shorter than Harper did. Her feet stung, unhappy to once again be baring weight, as blood rushed to her head. She wasnʼt healing. Or at least not properly, and at the rate she was accustomed to. Whether due to her form (how quickly did elves heal anyways), exhaustion, or the sky forsaken tattoo on her face, it was hard to say.    

“I donʼt live here.” She muttered in reply, eyes still focused on the ground watching as each passing moment her blood became harder and harder to clean away, eyes widening in increasing horror at the thought. Sheʼd not intended on marking anything, and as Harper had alluded to, had no way of knowing what manner of being lived in the city, apart from the one other of her kind that resided somewhere inside the city bounds. Would anyone in the city be able to know what she was by her blood alone? Unlikely, though they would likely know she wasnʼt what she appeared to be. How careful had the other one in the city been? Did they go splashing their blood about so carelessly? Again, she hoped not, finally turning her attention back to Harper as she spoke again, stomach clenching at the mention of food. Bleeding out entirely had not been something she had considered either. Boy was she young.

“Okay Harper Fairfax, I think itʼs good I not be here now.” If she couldnʼt make the blood disappear entirely, she could at least try and get away from it, giving in to Harperʼs suggestion she ʼclean upʼ.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Harper Fairfax on Mon Oct 22, 2018 10:36 pm

If she had a physical tail, it would be wagging at the moment. But alas there was none. Helping the young, or rather smaller girl, up Harper half carried, half walked towards the nearest bathroom. Her honey gold eyes watched as sailors walked in and out of areas. It was kinda weird, helping someone who was injured this way. It almost felt as if she was working undercover as some kind of Mafia person. Like Orion. Oh how the tables have le turned. He would be laughing so hard at her right now. But this was not the time for it. She was actually trying her best to help her out.

Reaching the public restroom was no issue. The harder part was everything after it. Opening up the girl's bathroom, the werewolf did a quick sweep of the place. She checked all the stalls, quality of the place, and to see if there was any way to dry hands and such. Paper, thankfully, was still in use here. And, though it was nothing amazing, it wasn't nearly as disgusting as she had first thought it was going to be. This was going to be fine. Holding the door open for the other girl, Harper ushered her in and pointed to the sinks. Once Vadreaam was in, the werewolf girl locked the door and turned to her. "I locked the door so no one would come in and ask any questions. If you're uncomfortable with that, I'll unlock it again." If she had asked for the door to be unlocked, Harper would have done it. If not, she walked over to the dark skinned elf and started helping her clean up.

Examining her body for cuts seemed like a very tedious job. To a normal person, like a human, this might feel uncomfortable in the best of situations. But they, as in herself and Vadreaam, were not normal people. Or rather, not strictly human. Harper looked the part. She did. But the sings were there. Another wolf could always tell. She was no wolf. She neither acted aggressive to her nor challenged her in a staring contest. This told the werewolf that either A) she had dealt with them before and or was one herself and was a submissive type or B) Simply did not like to look people in the eyes. It helped Harper out a lot. She might not be the most dominate werewolf on the block, but that didn't mean she wouldn't accept the challenge without meaning to.

Reaching over for a paper towel, she got it damp and gingerly started to wipe blood and dirt away. Well, as long as the other girl allowed her to. As well, she motioned for her to sit up on the counter the sinks were in. She was small enough to be comfortable between both sinks. As she begun her work, Harper did her best to look at the type of wounds that were inflicted. Nothing seemed to really add up in her mind. Maybe there was something she was missing. Likely. Fairly likely. But the only way to know was to ask questions. But...asking this girl seemed to be like pulling teeth. She was going to try anyway. "So, if you aren't from around here, where did you come from? If you don't mind me asking? Are you looking for someone? As well, how did you hear about our city. It's hard to get into this place....well it used to. I heard that some of the portals are a lot more open and humans walk through without issue. Though we're trying to crack down on the amount of regular humans that walk in through them. A lot of beings like to eat them. Or turn them."

Or use them for a bunch of other things. The blackmarket was a very big seller on humans these days. With more and more of them out in the world, it seemed like it was easier to get a hold of them. Not that Harper really knew. She was born and raised here and never knew the world outside of this city. Her family had told her stories. Her Moma spoke very fondly of her home country of Norway, as did her father....but never had she stepped foot into a place like that. Humans were the kind of people who didn't like change. Even to those who were human, like herself, or humans who had magical abilities like witches. They used to burn them back in the day...but that was a long time ago and many believed that witches and things that go bump in the night were just storied. Haha....well better that they were in the dark rather than starting up a whole new war again.

Harper continued on with her work of getting Vadreaam cleaned up. "Do you have a place to stay tonight? I live with my brothers in a big house my mom bought. It has a few spare bedrooms if you want to crash there. Normally they aren't around. Westly is off playing Solider with his friends and Kaleb is....well he's busy doing things for the family." Likely beating people up or doing stuff in the black market itself. Yeah that sounded about right. Le sigh. "Are you hungry at all? I can grab some food from around here. Or I can take you home and try and cook something. What do you like to eat? If I can, I'll try and get as close to that as possible." She smiled at the girl, trying to make the situation as relaxing as possible. But if Harper was in her position right now, she wouldn't want to hear anything about going to someone's house and eating food. She'd want to more than likely just eat whatever she could get her hands on that second.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Valdrá Eingana on Tue Oct 23, 2018 4:55 am

Allowing herself to be led wasnʼt nearly as difficult as she imagined it to be, not wanting to admit that having Harper to lean on (or practically be carried by) was the only way she was moving more than a couple feet before sheʼd have sat herself right back down. Embarrassed, to be sure, at how helpless it made her feel, but still grateful to be putting some distance between herself and the mess sheʼd made, even if she did continue to leave an admittedly small trail of blood to the bathroom in her wake. No one seemed concerned by it though, watching the dock activity pass by around them as she hobbled along in Harperʼs arms, not so much as garnering a look. Which made Harperʼs behaviour all the more odd, in comparison to the rest of the cityʼs apparent apathy. Not that Valdrá was about to complain, preferring not to have any more attention on her than necessary. Still, it made her uneasy.

Standing awkwardly outside, blinking at Harperʼs back as the officer went about inspecting the restroom, she felt even more uncertain, wrestling with her own indecision as she waited. Wasnʼt making sure everything was safe part of a guards job? It would have been more strange if she hadnʼt at least done a minimal search, right? But what if Harper wasnʼt making sure it was safe, but instead making sure that it was empty, so she could go about harvesting her body parts without anyone being the wiser? Hadnʼt Valdrá said she wasnʼt from there? No one would know if she simply disappeared, would they? How did she even know Harper was an officer at all? Or if Harper was her real name? Spiraling in a sea of doubt, she walked into the bathroom as sheʼd been bidden. What else could she do? She certainly couldnʼt run, she could barely walk.

Hearing the lock click she nearly screamed, though managed to keep silent as she snapped her attention toward Harper, eyes wide. Apparently the look she wore was enough because the lock was quickly undone without her having to speak. Probably for the best, uncertain just what she would have sounded like if sheʼd had to have asked outright. With Harper stepping away from the door, she breathed easier, moving her attention to the mirror instead, pushing her hood off her head.

It was surreal, seeing herself for the first time, and she wondered, before immediately shoving the thought away, if this was how her brother had felt when heʼd seen himself in his other form. Moving to touch her ears she blinked at herself. Deciding on a Veil was a very intentional act, done in consultation with the needs of the Hoarde, as well as the temperament of the person. There was study about the culture and how best to blend in with that chosen Veil, and over time, it became a part of that person, whatever the Veilʼs race, just like their different brands of magic were part of them. Sheʼd not been meant to have one, and had never considered what form sheʼd have chosen for herself if she were. Yet here she stood, so far away from where she was meant to be, in a drow body she had all of four days, not knowing a damn thing, about being a drow, or being a dragon for that matter, on the Outside. Touching the lines of the tattoo on her face, she half expected them to burn her fingertips, but for now, they felt normal. The irritation on either side of her mouth she ignored entirely.

Drawing her attention back where it belonged, Valdrá hopped up onto the counter, reminded that there was someone else besides herself looking her over, and she had better at least try and act like she knew what she was doing. She kept her gaze on Harperʼs hands, not her eyes, intentionally so, not knowing what manner of being Harper happened to be, but instead out of her own cultural protocol. Better to keep her own white eyes averted than accidentally start an incident she was not prepared to finish.  

Offering her wrists to Harperʼs paper towel dabbing, it was immediately obvious to them both that while her wrists might be weeping blood from friction, that was certainly not where the blood she was tracking about was truly coming from. Nor was the true source of the problem coming from her ankles with similar blood abrasions, or even the bottoms of her feet, with their missing layer of skin. With nothing else to offer her, there was no more stalling to be had, and Valdrá sighed, sticking her feet into the sink, speaking to answer Harperʼs questions as she unzipped her hoodie.

“I would prefer not to say,” she said in reference to her place of origin, not even certain what the city itself had been called, and not about to tell this stranger what her true home was named, even if the likelihood sheʼd have heard of it was basically zero. “Iʼm looking for a librarian, or maybe just a library itself, do you have those here?” Also not at all what Harper had likely been looking for, answer wise, but so far both had been true. After the Valdreeam fiasco, she was thinking lying was not for her. The next question was harder, and she frowned and winced in unison, as she pulled the hoodie off her bloody back, considering. “A human said I would be safe here, so I started walking in this direction, and when I felt magic, I followed that, and now Iʼm here.” The first two days had been hard, walking based on a humanʼs rumor and blind panic. But again, her simple answer was also honest.

She kept her very many thoughts about the existence of humans in the city, and their fates to herself, instead falling silent as Harper attempted to tackle the mess that had become of her back. It was an odd thing, how her wounds had manifested in this form. Much of her back was scarred over, but two of the newest gashes had torn open and had refused to close, much to her dismay. As a drow, her entire back was a wreck. In her true form…again she shoved that thought away as well. That was a box better left shut.

She had to pause though, at the offer of food, and a place to stay, even for just one night. Immediately she was suspicious again, but what were her alternatives? Wouldnʼt her own guard have done the same if one of their kind had come injured? Why would Harper, whatever kind of being she was, be any different? Perhaps it was only the humans that were monsters, and while she did not know what Harper was, she knew she was no human.  

“That is very kind of you, Harper Fairfax. I was planning on staying the night here, but I am thinking you do not think that is a good idea.” If her previous comments about finding her and others being interested in the bloody mess she was were any indication. And honestly, she didnʼt exactly find it the most brilliant of plans either, it was just the only one she had. Being indebted to a stranger wasnʼt the best of plans either, but it had to be better than the ground.

“I eat meat,” she continued, blinking back as Harper smiled. “Cooked, preferably, but I am not picky.” That was not entirely true, about being picky that was, but after three years of what could only be considered garbage, anything would do.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

Post by Harper Fairfax on Sun Oct 28, 2018 2:26 pm

Her panic was real and as soon as that lock clicked, it was unclicked. No locking the doors, got it. Whatever had happened to this girl was beyond whatever Harper could imagine. This girl's wrists were in rough shape, that was for sure, but it was not the damage that she was looking for. Vadreaam had also realized this and allowed Harper to look at her ankles and feet. Grabbing a new paper towel, the werewolf girl begun cleaning the new location. Skin was missing upon her feet, making Harper continue to wonder, and fear, what had happened before this point. Wherever she had come from, it was amazing she had gotten this far without passing out. Or killing someone. If Harper was found like this, it would take someone who could handle a feral werewolf with no problem.

But this was still not the reason why this girl was bleeding so much.

Vadreaam let out a sigh and put her feet in the sink. The hoodie that the other girl was wear had come off. The real answer to both their question was before them. And it was something Harper would never forget. How many sections of her back had been touched? Some were old scars, some were more fresh. Just looking at it made the girl take in a sharp breath. Once again, she grabbed a new paper towel and as gingerly as she could, started to dab away at the wounds. This girl was going to need more than just dabbing paper towels. A fresh wrap would more likely be needed. Yeah, it was going to be seeming like she was going to need to come home with her. At least for the night.

As Harper cleaned the girl up, a few answers to her questions had been given. And to be honest, they weren't what she expected. While she respected the choice not to say where she came from, to be answered and told that she was trying to go to a library was a new one. "A Library huh? Well there are a few around town...but I don't think they will let you stay long if you have blood tracking along the carpet and tile. But once you have rested enough, you should be able to go in at any time."

She started to finish up cleaning up all the blood that had come out. A bath would be much better for her. Or a shower. A clean body promotes a healthy body. And a healthy body needs food and a good place to rest. She didn't want to say that her plans were falling into place....but she was happy that this girl, though panicked when the bathroom door was locked, was going to allow her to to take her to the werewolf's home. "You can just call me Harper. My last name isn't needed. And you are in luck, I have plenty of meat at my house. As a werewolf, that is our choice foods. Cooking it should be no issue. If you don't mind coming back with me. I don't want to stress you out too much. But I do have very comfy beds, a hot bath with your name on it, maybe some clothes that could fit you....only question is how to get you there. The easiest way is for me just to carry you and run back. Unless you want to walk then it will be a bit of a walk."

Harper stood there and thought for a moment. She could always just call a cab...but that was going to cost money as well. Truthfully, running would be better. But it was up to this girl on how she wanted to go about it. If nothing else, staying here was not an option. Not if Harper could help it.
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Re: Too Stubborn to Die

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