To Become the Hunted

To Become the Hunted
Date of Scene:	08 August 2013
Location:	Halloween Town
Synopsis:	After being hunted by a mercenary, Cressida finds an unlikely protector.
Cast of Characters:	Cressida, Rylen Corvus

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Cressida has posed:
Halloween town has never been a very warm, or inviting place for travellers. Maybe that's the point. Afterall, it's supposed to scare people, isn't it? Apparently it's doing its job, tonight at least. It seems perpetually dark here, lit up only sparsely by the eerie green glow of the fountain water and little else.

There's not a lot of people populating the town right now, no one at least to witness the strange woman who staggers down the road, bloodied and wounded by some unknown assailant, although oddly enough, her own long fingernails also seem to be drenched in blood.

A strange, mad look crosses her vaguely lupine features, cold blue eyes darting about warily as if she were looking for something..Or someone, a soft growl escaping her lips as she searches for a place to hide, to recuperate.

Rylen Corvus has posed:
Halloween town might seem like a strange place for an entertainer to spend much time, but many of the citizens of the dark city enjoyed diversions, especially ones catered to their unique tastes. The magic of this place, which often brought out darker visions of a person, had transformed the elf into something nearly monsterous.

Pale, blue-ish skin is covered in scars across a bare chest, but his outfit looks like something you'd expect from a side-show performer. None of the scars were real, not even the long gash across his neck, but they looked as if they fit in with other ghosts and macabre monsters running around.

It would be easy not to notice him at first, a shadowy figure in an alleyway, tossing a knife in his hand. It's the trail of blood that catches his attention, causing him to catch the dagger and sheath it among a handful of others that made up his outfit, somewhere between an undead knife-thrower and a bloody assassin, but somehow neither.

So, the elf tails the woman, not making any attempt to hide his footsteps.

Cressida has posed:
Whatever cosmetic changes this world brought upon the cursed werewolf were nothing compared to the more permanent changes that she had to suffer every day. In her wounded state however, she pays little attention to her surroundings, determined to find a safe place as soon as possible.

Of course, the further away she is from people, the better. An so she heads to the outskirts of town, into the surrounding woods, that are just as spooky - if not moreso - than the town itself.

A cold wind sings an unnerving song as it whips through the trees, causing the young woman to shiver as she wraps her cloak around herself more tightly. Each step seems to cause her further pain however, and she falters and lags after a while, coming to a complete stop as she reaches a large clearing in the woods.

IT takes her a moment or two to realize that she's being followed and she snarls, unsheathing her claws. Somehow the spear did not feel right in this state that seemed somehow caught between human and wolf. "Who goes there?!" She snarls, spinning around to face the intruder. There's a dangerous, almost threatenning tone to her voice. She's already been hunted once tonight. She's not sure she has the strength left to fight again.

Rylen Corvus has posed:
It seems like the beginning lines to a horror film. A dark man follows a woman through dark streets into a dark wood. It's impossible to know if he has an equally dark purpose. The Elf's scarred features certainly don't make him look friendly in the least.

As she turns, Rylen is momentarily sillouetted against the moonlight, his white hair and blue-ish skin making him look monstrous. Yet, her alarm has him raising his hands in a gesture that is clearly one of surrender.

"Easy there." He offers, hands at his shoulders, blue eyes watching the girl's fierce expression. "I'm not here to do you any harm." He lowers his hands then, hooking them into the pockets of his jeans, head cocked, ears alert. "You're hurt." It's a statement, not a question. "And it wouldn't be gentlemanly of me not to offer my services to a woman in need."

The Elf sweeps his hand in front of himself in a bow, and when he finishes, there is a small hint of a smile as if he had played this role many a time before. "You'll have to excuse the zombie look. This world does... interesting things to people."

Cressida has posed:
What's happened to her lately? This whole world has her mentally messed up. But more than that, whatever it was that attacked her left her feeling more vulnerable than ever. It's taking her a while to gather her wits about her, to maintain the cool demeanor she's known so well for. She's finally losing it.. And then this young upstart just had to come in at the wrong moment.

She snarls again as she nears him, unsheathing her claws, long silver tail swishing behind her. After the scuffle with whatever it was she fought, the ribbon had come undone, leaving both the tail and the ears in plain sight.

"That's what HE said too, before he stabbed me, multiple times.." Of course there was the mirror too. He wanted to see her true form when he killed her. He wanted to see her, as a monster.. She lunges at Rylen with a howl that sounds eerily like that of a mad wolf, but her aim goes wild and she stumbles off-balance instead, falling to her knees. "Damn..."

She curses, gritting her teeth as she wills her battered body to rise again. But she's simply too exhausted and more blood trickles from an abdominal wound as she looks down at it, clutching at it desperately with her clawed, bloodied hands.

Rylen Corvus has posed:
It wouldn't be too far out of the ordinary for someone to accuse a mercenary of attacking someone, but in this case, it is quite far from the truth. "Yeah, but I'm not hi---ieeaah." As she lunges, the Elf backs off, quick to move out of the way of what he expects to be a full on attack. Instead, he watches the woman stumble, and then sighs, rubbing at his forehead. "Here... look."

Rylen reaches up and unbuckles the knife-belt from across his chest. He dangles them out where she can see them, and then tosses the entire set a good distance away, holding his hands out so it's fairly clear that he's now unarmed. "If I wanted to attack you, you'd be dead already, so how about we stop the feral wolf act and let me help you."

He's still being cautious, not daring to draw too close lest she strike out at him again. The sight of her ears, tail, and claws, don't seem to alarm him as it might some others. "I know you don't have any reason to trust me, but let's be honest, what choice have you got? I'm no medical expert, but I'm going to guess you'll pass out from blood loss soon enough, and then you're stuck with me anyways. At least this way you can keep an eye on me and make sure there's no funny buisness."

Cressida has posed:
If she were to know he was a mercenary, Cressida would probably be even more wary of him. Fortunately he is wise not to let that bit of information slip.

When he pulls out his weapons and tosses them away, she seems to relax a little, even letting out a soft laugh as she shakes her head in disbelief. Feral wolf? her? He couldn't be closer to the truth. "Hmph. You are a fool..Throwing away your life like that. Who is to say you can trust me, hmm?" Cold blue eyes stare up at him, almost mockingly.

Yes, she could kill him easily without weapons. She could use the last remaining strength to transform..Stab him, beckon him closer..In her current state, she's not thinking too clearly. unfortunately, she's still too weak to transform, or even make an attempt at fighting back.

"Now, why would someone like you, want to help a complete stranger such as myself? Hm? What do you get out of it, except to maybe lose your life - or a limb, in the process.." She coughs then, coughing up a bit of blood. Damn, this doesn't look good.

Rylen Corvus has posed:
"Think me a fool, if you like." Rylen replies, offering another of those smiles that doesn't look quite right on the grotesque scarred features. It's the look of someone used to smiling, and it doesn't fit the way this world has twisted his vissage. "I'm not exactly worried that you're going to do much in the way of harm. My guess? You're about at the end of your reserves. Let's be honest with ourselves... I'm quick, and as much as I look like a shambling corpse, I'm in far better shape than you are. I don't think I'm the one in danger, here."

He folds his arms across his chest, a picture of ease. He doesn't appear bothered by her harsh words, though there is an expression on his features that seems concerned. "What do I get out of it? Clearly, what I get is my life threatened by a woman I barely know. Usually, I have much better luck with the ladies, I'll admit. Maybe it's the zombie thing." He shrugs then.

"I don't need anything from you." The Elf crouches, balancing on his toes, the picture of grace. "Consider it a good deed from an anonymous semaritan trying to do the right thing, huh?" Reaching a hand down, Rylen touches the ground, tracing a small circle in the dirt. Where his hand touches, the earth beneath him cracks, and water begins to bubble up from it, forming a small plume of liquid that rises up about a foot into the air.

"Drink. It's not as good as a potion, but it should help." And, as if to show that it's not poisoned or anything of the like, the Elf scoops a handful himself, drinking it down. Oddly, where the water touches, his skin seems to momentarily show it's true color, tanned and healthy, and the scars vanish. The effect only lasts a matter of seconds, though.

Cressida has posed:
He seems trustworthy enough, and his soothing words seem to calm her some, to bring her back to her more controlled self. Who is to say which is the true visage really?

The silver haired woman lifts her eyes to meet his, giving him a long look for the first time, and a slight smirk at his rather zombie like appearance. Yes, he does look like a walking corpse. Was that how he always looked, or was it the magic of this wretched place? Of course she does not look much better herself, dressed in ragged skins and some strange warpaint, looking like a barbarian crossed with an undead scarecrow or wolf zombie or something weird in between. Unfortunately it also means her ears and tail are not so well hidden either. The blood doesn't help much either.

"It seems, I have no choice. Still, it was foolish to get close to me, when I am this..." Cressida stares down at her blood soaked claws before hesitantly reaching for the water he produces. Some sort of geomancer is her? It's only when he drinks it himself that she is assured it is not poison.

She takes a long, thirsty drink of it, proving to be quite thirsty and possibly hungry to. "I...Do not wish to hurt anymore people.." Drawing a shaky breath, she eases herself into a semi-reclining position, resting against the claw-scarred trunk of a nearby, twisted old tree.

"Who are you?"

Rylen Corvus has posed:
The Elf wipes off his hands on the side of the tattered vestment he wears, his eyes meeting hers for a moment, still resting in that crouch. It's a stance that a trained fighter would be able to move from easily enough, if the need called for it.

"I'm not afraid of you." His head tilts, sending a few strands of his own silver hair to the side, making him look that much more eerie in the moonlight. "Trust me, m'lady, I've seen far scarrier things in this world than you. Bloody-claws and all." There is another one of those smiles, charming and charismatic, looking far too boyish on his scarred face.

He watches her drink, and then recline against the tree, standing eerily still as she moves. The water he'd summoned seems to carry with it some measure of healing powers, although he had been telling the truth - it isn't as powerful as a potion or tincture made for tending wounds. "Well, that's entirely up to you, I'd imagine."

Shifting to his feet, the young man balances on one leg, scratching the back of the other with a bare foot. It's quite strange to be barefoot out here, or really anywhere for that matter. Yet, he seems comfortable enough with it. "My name is Rylen Corvus." Another flourish follows. "Acrobat, performer, playboy, annoyer of beautiful bloody silver-haired young women..." He starts ticking things off on his fingers.

Cressida has posed:
"Well, you should be, if you had any wits about you.." She pulls her blood-drenched cloak more tightly around herself, relaxing a bit as she feels the strange, enchanted water healing her wounds, a little. They dont seem too deep but she's certainly lost a lot of blood.

"I'm afraid...Not always, but, you are best off not knowing any more about me, for your own sake." She replies as she takes another sip of the water, nearly choking as he lists off his accomplishments.

The lupine woman nods as he introduces himself, but does not offer a name in return. "Careful. That 'charm' of yours might just get you into trouble some day..If it hasn't already.." she smirks again, an amused smirk, feeling more relaxed now, although she tenses suddenly as she hears a rustle in the nearby trees, ears pricked alert. "He's still out there, waiting..."

Clutching her wounded abdomen, she makes another attempt to rise, but yelps in pain as she realizes her wound is still not healed, not completely. "Ugh..." Climbing to her feet, she slumps still, against the tree, breathing heavily. If she stays here, would the appearance of the strange, silver haired elf be enough to deter off her attacker, or would he attack her still? It would be easy to convince him that Cressida was in fact an evil, bloodthirsty werewolf, because she pretty much is.

Eyes dart around nervously, as she tries to figure out what to do..

Rylen Corvus has posed:
"Ahh, dear lady, but I am not lacking in wits. You're... interesting. It's enough of a reason to invest a few moments of my time in making sure you don't kill yourself." Though she doesn't offer her name, Rylen also doesn't ask it, or anything else. He seems content enough to let her have her secrets. If the rest were meant to come, it would in time, or else this is little more than a chance meeting of little consequence.

"You wouldn't be the first trouble I've gotten myself into, nor the last. Rest easy that I take full responsibility for treading dangerous territory." Like any male who has been around a few years, he's learned that any woman can turn into a monster if given the right reasons. This one might look the part, but he can't help but be sympathetic to her plight rather than fearful.

The crack has him turning, shifting his weight as he looks off into the woods. He doesn't turn his back on her, but it's clear that the Elf is watching the forest. When nothing makes itself known, he looks back, watching the strain on her form from just trying to get up. "I know a place you might be able to rest for a while. Not far from here, if you can walk. Otherwise... I could carry you if you promise not to claw my face off." The elf smirks then, stepping closer to her, his eyes still scanning the darkness.

"If nothing else, having a bit of company might discourage anyone from taking advantage of the situation."

Cressida has posed:
If he could call 'cursed evil werewolf who kills innocents' interesting. She smiles a small smile, before looking serious again. "I suppose....It would be the coward's way out.." that last part is said a bit more softly, almost as if she were ashamed to admit she had even considered the notion at one time.

"You think this is exciting, do you? You truly are naieve.." She sighs and shakes her head. But she cant fight the other mercenary like this, nor can she allow another innocent to die because of her. "I suppose you are right, even if you are bizarre, and I don't even know you..It seems I have few other options.."

However, the suggestion of carrying her causes her to blanch as she tries again to push away from the tree, pullng out her spear and using it as a kind of crutch. Cressida manages to stand upright, but she looks like she's in a hell of a lot of pain.

"I will manage...Somehow. How far away is this place?"

Rylen Corvus has posed:
The Elf doesn't comment one way or the other on his thoughts when it comes to suicide. If that were her purpose, there were certainly easier ways to do it than this. The fact that she is trying to get away shows some will to live, and that's enough. "Exciting?" He glances over at her, then shakes his head, "Exciting is the roar of the crowd, the thrill of achieving something others thought impossible. The wonder in a child's eyes. Those things are exciting..."

He pauses, watching her struggle to walk. Rylen hadn't expected her to actually take him up on the offer. "This is dangerous, and I'd be a real fool if I thought it was a game for mere fun." He motions forward, up along a smaller, twisty pathway that moves into the woods. "Consider me a... gray knight if you will. I don't /always/ do the right thing, but sometimes there's a little part of me that insists on trying. Even when my damsels in distress are less than greatful for it."

Seeming familiar enough in these woods, the Elf leads the way, "It's not far." And indeed, he is right. It's maybe a half a mile up the twisting road, out of sight of the main pathway into Halloween Town. The shack looks as if it might have belonged on the set of a thriller, complete with boarded up windows and crows roosting on the roof.

"It's not much, but you can't ask for much in this world. Every place looks like some run down haunted house. It's not though. At least, no ghosts have ever bothered me when I crashed here." He shrugs then, glancing over at the blood covered wolf-girl. "You should be safe enough here... and I can stand watch. Give you a few hours of peace and quiet without prattling Elves to bother you."

Cressida has posed:
"Then I commend you for your bravery, elf, but it is more for your sake than mine that I worry..." Another wry smirk as he talks of his damsels in distress. "You do this a lot, I take it." She says dryly, but nods and follows after him as he leads the way. Less talking, more action. Usually quick and nimble on her feet, Cressida seems to struggle all the way up the trail, nearly tripping several times in her lethargy, pausing every so often for breath.

They're about a hundred meters away when she falls to her knees, clutching her bleeding side again. "Ugh..Don't think I can..." Damn, this is too embarrassing.

Rylen Corvus has posed:
"Ahh, bravery." Rylen smirks as they walk, although his blue eyes do shift from watching the woods to watching the wolf-girl struggling beside him. "I've never really been the sort of person to walk away from something because it's dangerous or difficult." He considers that for a moment, "Then again, my usual challenges are things like high-wire acrobatics. Fierce, dangerous, beautiful women... that's a new one in my book."

Once the house comes into sight, it isn't the way forward that concerns him as much as what might lie behind them. If someone were following the wolf, then he should have heard them by now. Could that crack have just been some woodland animal, or the haunted trees playing tricks on them both? "Actually, this is a first for me." He admits, glancing at her through long strands of white hair. "I only woke up in this strange world a few weeks ago. Before that..." He trails off for a moment, organizing his thoughts. "Well, I had other troubles before that."

His eyes are actually on the forest when the nameless woman crumples to her knees, but the sound of it draws his attention back. This time, he crouches closer to her than before, watching her face. "I don't think anyone is going to question your strength, m'lady, but a wise person knows when they need someone else's help." There is that smile again, charming and somewhat whistful. "Let me help you, and I promise, I won't speak a word of it to anyone." He's not going to touch her without her permission, but staying out here in the open is asking for trouble.

Cressida has posed:
It certainly is strange that their elusive stalker, if it were indeed a stalker, could not be heard any longer..Or perhaps they were simply being more cautious after giving themselves away? A shadowy movement in the light however, reassures her that he is not far behind. Watching, waiting for her to give up.

She smirks a little at Rylen's flirty comment, finding it hard to be too serious around him. "And I suppose you are too arrogant to step down from such a challenge, hmm?" Her face seems suddenly paler as she slumps over, resting a bloodied hand against a nearby tree.

"I do not fear death, but..It will be of my own time and place..Of my own choosing. Not now, not today. Not until..I have accompllished one thing..." Cold eyes narrow to shards of ice as she swallows her pain, a look of cold determination setting in. She can be proud and foolish sometimes, but she's not stupid. She knows when to ask for help.

Cressida sighs and nods slowly, closing her eyes. "Very well..It seems...I have few choices.." Even her voice seems to be growing softer now, weaker from all the blood she's lost as she continues to clutch at her bleeding abdomen with a trembling hand.

Rylen Corvus has posed:
"I suppose that's one way of putting it. I would have said that I'm too stubborn, like a certain unnamed wolf I have the distinct pleasure of dealing with." Certainly, there were some things that he had good reason to be arrogant about, but this isn't really one of them.

For all her protests, he lingers, blue eyes full of concern on features that seem strange to that emotion. This world twists people, and surely this isn't what he looks like in the real world. "Well, let's make sure you live to do that, then." He doesn't question her motivations, or whatever it is that keeps her fighting to live. Everyone has their reasons.

Instead, when she finally relents, the Elf leans down and with a sweeping motion, he scoops up the werewolf, one arm beneath her legs and the other propping her against his chest. "Alright, let's get you inside."

Covering the distance to the run down shack takes little time, and once inside, it becomes clear that someone has called this place 'home' recently. Things are still cast about haphazardly, but there is a chocobo in one corner, and a series of traveling bags tossed against a wall. The only place to rest is a bed-roll, which he neatly deposits the white wolf down onto, taking care not to jostle her wounds.

"Stay here... I'm going to go outside and see if our 'friend' is still following. If so, we'll see how much he likes a fair fight." The Elf grins and cracks his knuckles as he rises, heading for the door. Rylen had thrown away his knives, so for all purposes, it appears that he might be unarmed, and yet he didn't seem to consider himself at any disadvantage against the person tailing them through the dark forest.

Cressida has posed:
Cressida has given up trying to be strong in a situation like this. There's not much life left in her right now and she needs desperately to conserve strength. She allows him to pick her up without any resistance, and in fact by now she seems to be drifting between conscioussness, not even responding to his smart alec remarks.

Only a word or two are caught here and there, cold eyes flickering open briefly when he mentions confronting the attacker. It seems she wants to say something, but exhaustion takes over and she falls into soundles sleep instead when he deposits her on the bedroll.

When Rylen steps outside, he may notice nothing out of the ordinary, at first..Except perhaps for a strange rustle in the nearby trees, a rustle that could not possibly have come from an otherwise calm and windless night..

Rylen Corvus has posed:
And then the wolf had to go and pass out on him, just great. Rylen steels himself as he looks at the edge of the woods around the cabin, knowing that he had to look the part of someone intimidating. An actor by trade, this isn't particularly hard. He folds his arms over his chest. "Whoever you are, you might as well take off. You won't be harming this girl tonight, not unless you want to go through me."

It's a gamble that they won't try to take him up on that offer.

Cressida has posed:
A cold chuckle echoes through the forest, the voice surprisingly closer than the rustle might have initially suggested. "You are a fool then if you hope to save that creature's life. She will only kill you as she has killed hundreds of innocents before you. I came here to put a stop to her murderous rampage, and yet you dare to threaten me? Hah!"

Another rustle as the shadowy form leaps from the trees to the ground. "But I am no murderer, just a mercenary working for money. I'm not getting paid to fight you. Now be a good boy and leave peacefully so I can collect my owes. I'd actually be doin' you a favor, saving you from being butchered by that monster. Whaddaya say?"

Rylen Corvus has posed:
When the hunter finally shows himself, Rylen appears dutifully unimpressed. The Elf is tall and lean-muscled, seeming perfectly at ease with his chances against his unknown opponent. "I'm alright with being a fool." Having spent years as a mercenary, himself, he knows exactly what it's like to have a contract to do something dark and bloody. It's the sort of work he hated, but sometimes it did pay the bills.

"There's a fine line between the two, my friend, and I don't plan on anyone dying tonight." Being called a 'boy' amuses him, though. "I've got more than a few years on someone as young as you, so I'd watch who you call a 'boy'." Elves have that whole 'long lifespan' thing, which means that Rylen is likely at least a hundred if not more.

"How about I do you a favor and pay off your bounty. I'll take my chances with the wolf-girl." In this business, money talks, and he pulls out a bag of coinage that looks well stocked.

Cressida has posed:
The man is pretty tall and muscular himself, once he comes into view of the moonlight. A long black hooded cloak hides most of his features, but a massive axe can be seen slung upon his back.

He eyes the money greedily, taking a step towards it, but laghs and shakes his head. "Indeed, it would be easier to take the money, however my employer would not be too pleased.." He snorts, shaking his head, "Of course i'm only in it for the money, but I cant guarantee that he wont send someone else in my place.."

Rylen Corvus has posed:
"Let him not be pleased. Work to the highest bidder is how it works for people like us. If he can't pay, then he doesn't deserve your services." Rylen has played this game before, and he knew how to win it. "If he sends someone else, so be it. At least it won't be tonight." And that's really all he's hoping for as he sends the bag sailing through the air towards the other mercenary.

The bag of coins is quite a lot of money, probably more than the Elf can really afford to be spending on some random girl, but he had ways of being able to make more. He was never the sort to scrimp and save, and other than food in his belly, the rest doesn't matter. "Now take off. I don't want to see you stalking around here."

Cressida has posed:
The mercenary catches the bag easily enough, peering into it and weighing it in his hand to determine how much gold is there. His eyes widen in surprise, glancing back at Rylen warily.

"Really..Is that filthy creature worth that much to you? Hah, you're just throwing your life away anyway! IF she survives, she'll just kill you, otherwise she'll die and this will all be for nothing.."

He smirks, sweeping his cloak around him as he turns to leave, shrugging a bit. "But, I guess it's your funeral, dont say I didnt warn you...Tata!"

Rylen Corvus has posed:
The Elven man doesn't bother answering. She might not be worth the price to him, but perhaps she's worth it to someone else. It's not as if he knows this woman. Perhaps it was foolish, but at least a fool doesn't always have to have blood on his hands.

From the side of the cabin, a yellow chocobo warks, and Rylen glances over towards it. "Yeah, well, I don't think you get to comment. You're a bird." The chocobo ruffles his feathers.

With a sigh, Rylen heads back inside, content to settle himself against one of the walls to stand watch. If she was going to try to kill him, at least he'd have a few seconds warning.

Cressida has posed:
Cressida seems to have slept through it all. Her wounds were never properly tended to although the healing water did help stop the bleeding at least. She looks exhausted however, and not really looking like she might talk any time soon.

She does however murmur some things under her breath, seeming quite disturbed about something. "Mmm....Mother? Father...Who...It cant be! I killed them......No......!" She screams, eyes flashing open suddenly, letting loose another distinctly lupine howl, before dropping back again, apparently sleep talking, or something...

Several hours pass before she regains conscioussness, murmuring softly, yawning and stretching as her eyes slowly flutter open.

Glancing over at Rylen in surprise (who by now has likely fallen asleep himself), she is quite taken aback and unsure what to say. He just saved her life, despite what the mercenary warned about her. "Rylen...."

Rylen Corvus has posed:
It's a distubring thought, the words that come from her lips. Whatever this woman had done to deserve the men that want her dead, clearly it couldn't torture her as badly as whatever haunts her dreams. For a long time, the Elf just watches her before he, too, falls asleep.

By the time that Cressida wakes up, it's nearly daylight, althoguh it's hard to tell in this ghostly land. The Elf's head is resting forward against his chest, arms folded. It couldn't have been comfortable to sleep that way, and yet somehow it had happened anyways.

There is a sound of movement, though. It isn't a hunter or mercenary, but the big head of a chocobo, peering through one of the windows that only has a few boards left to cover it. It's almost as if the bird was watching over it's master, making sure that she wouldn't cause him any harm. With a ruffle of feathers, the bird warks once.

The sound causes Rylen to murmur to himself, but he doesn't wake, not yet.

Cressida has posed:
Cressida had many questions. What happened to the mercenary that was hunting her? How much had he told Rylen about Cressida? And more importantly, why was she still there, instead of murdered, either by Rylen or the mercenary?

Cressida did not wish to linger here for much longer. After this man saved her life, she did not wish to accidently harm her. It seemed that tragedy followed her wherever she went. She glances at her wounds, seeing that they are not fully healed. But she feels stronger than last night at least. She will find out what he knows before leaving.

However it seems he still slumbers. She peers at the chocobo as it peeks in on its master and sighs. "You watched over me too, didn't you? Take good care of your master. I owe him my life.."

Rylen Corvus has posed:
The chocobo sticks its beak through the window and warks a second time, perhaps in direct response to Cressida's comment, or due to Rylen oversleeping and missing out on feeding it first thing in the morning. "Umurble." The Elf mumbles, and then seems to blink himself awake, squinting at the pale light through the cracked boards. "Yes, yes, I know you're hungry. Just a second, I'm up, I'm up."

He's already getting to his feet by the time the events of the previous night come back to him. Rylen blinks, looks to the bedroll, eyes only showing a slight widening of surprise that the wolf-girl is actually up. "Well... good morning." He stretches his arms out above his head, a gesture that might show off some measure of his lean body if it weren't for the fact that the whole nightmare-ish look of him ruins the effect.

Wark! The chocobo squacks again.

"Give me just a minute." He holds up a finger, and then grabs one of the travel bags, his footfalls sounding as he walks outside. With so many missing boards in the walls and windows, it's easy to watch his progress as he walks up to the chocobo, swinging a feed bag up over the bird's beak. "There, now quiet yourself, my friend. We'll get on the road, soon enough." The chocobo ruffles it's feathers as Rylen makes his way back inside.

"So..." He seems uncertain of just what to say, and instead grabs for another of his bags, slumping down along the wall as he plucks out a canteen and some travel rations. After taking a drink for himself, he offers the canteen over to her, as well as a few neatly wrapped packages of what appears to be granola bars, complete with packaging from some human world.

Cressida has posed:
Cold eyes tiredly watch the exchange between elf and chocobo, finding it somehow..Heart warming. She never had a chocobo of her own, as her presence usually tended to spook them. As he busies himself with the chocobo, she glances down at her scant clothing, that which covers her sinewy form is covered mostly in blood stains. She'll need a change of clothes for sure, and a nice good bath, but...

Ahh, the lake. Wrapping her cloak around herself, Cressida climbs to her feet, seeming a lot more energetic and altogether stronger than she was last night. Still, those wounds and blood loss wont heal overnight.

After a moment's thought, she accepts the canteen and the granola bars, staring at them a bit hesitantly and even sniffing them a bit as if she still feared he might try to poison her..

But of course he had ample opportunity to kill her last night. Although Cressida is not one to easily trust anyone generally, he has given her ample reason to trust him just a little. She thirstily sips the canteen water before handing it back to him, hungrily digging into the granola bars.

"Thank you..I owe you my life, and I still do not understand why you did it, but...I have overstayed my welcome...I should go.." She reaches for her spear, still using it as a crutch and begins to head for the door, however she pauses before openning it, not yet turning around as she ponders something.

"One last thing before I go. I must know..What did the mercenary tell you...About me?"

Rylen Corvus has posed:
As the Elf settles himself, he sinches up the travel bag, his eyes now and again wandering over towards the wolf-girl. He'd be blind not to notice her feminine form, but he manages to keep his eyes from wandering. If nothing else, her remaining wounds are worrying, and his blue-eyes linger on them longer than anything else. "I'm sorry my magic couldn't do more for you, but I'm no healer. Normally, I'd have brought along some potions or bandages, but I haven't been back to a real town to re-stock in a while. I'm pretty low on supplies."

Amongst his traveling gear, it's clear that there are a number of empty bags which might normally contain more items needed for survival out here on the edge of the wilds. Her words of thanks actually causes him to raise his eyebrows, offering the smallest of smiles, "Not everyone is a good person or a bad one. There's so many levels of gray inbetween. As for my reasons, well... if it suits you, consider it a momentary act of weakness on the part of one foolish man who is a sucker for a pretty face." He shrugs, as if that probably isn't the reason, at all.

He lets her go, then. The Elf watches her progress, but he doesn't say anything until she turnsa round. He is the picture of relxation, leaned against the wall. "He told me that you're a monster, and that you'll likely kill me." Once more, he just shrugs. "I think I'll figure out my own opinion in time, but I must say, I'm still alive. So he can't be entirely right."

With an incline of his head, the Elf acknowledges that much, "I wish you good journey, m'lady. I pray the next time our paths cross, it's in less dire circumstances."