Post by The Blood Hunter on Oct 17, 2013 17:48:48 GMT -5
The country side of Noxus shone under the full moon, covering the forest in pale, silver light. At the dead of night, the creatures of the forest came our, unfettered by the presence of man.
The Blood Hunter sat atop a large stone, his prey in front of him. An adult deer, its throat torn out by his jaws, bled on the rocks. He had already eaten most of it, saving the fur and bones with little meat left on them.
Hunting such small game gave both him and the beast no satisfaction. But his blood lust needed some indulging and he dare not kill anyone one in Noxus without Swain's consent. So small game it would be. Unless he could find something challenging.
He hated how he couldn't control his urges. He hated how he had gorged himself on a dead animal like a mindless beast. But most of all, he hated how part of him enjoyed it all. He needed to find an answer.
Post by Butcher of the Sands on Oct 20, 2013 20:52:17 GMT -5
Night was not the Butcher's native element, but through a series of strange events, seeming all to conspire against him, Renekton had found himself outside the walls of Noxus, wandering under the full moon. He had decided a stroll through the Noxian country side might be a learning experience, to continue his education of the Noxian way of life. Either way, here he was, wandering through the forest. Perhaps he could take advantage of the situation and hunt for some fresh meat. Though these beasts which wandered through the forest would barely be a meal, he might enjoy the thrill of killing something--after such a long time.
As he stealthily glided through the trees, eyes scanning, intent on the possible sight of prey, he stepped into a clearing. Immediately, his gaze was drawn to the large stone, but more importantly, the individual perching on it. With the moon bathing all in its pale light, it gave the scene a rather strange, ethereally feeling, what with the grisly remains of the Blood Hunter's prey, and the two champions--one of Noxus and the other of Zaun.
Remaining at the edge of the clearing, the Culling Blade eyed Warwick warily. Though he had had limited interaction with him on the so-called "Fields of Justice", Renekton knew to be wary of the werewolf. The unfortunate individual fell prey to his own blood lust due to his lycanthropy, and as such could not be fully trusted to behave himself when his passions got the best of him. Simply, the demigod was worried he might damage or even kill Warwick, which the Grand General would not appreciate.
Breaking the silence, and still hanging warily back, the Butcher called out, his voice gruff, "Greetings, Warwick. What brings you to the forests around Noxus at night? Howling at the moon?"
"There is no such thing as innocence. Only varying degrees of guilt."
Post by The Blood Hunter on Oct 27, 2013 22:06:29 GMT -5
Warwick knew Renekton's approach long before he made his revealed himself. His feet echoed through the quite night and the smell of the desert clung to him. The beast howled in delight. A worthy foe at last! His blood burned in anticipation.
But Warwick would not let it. He had already succumbed to the beasts urges tonight, he would not let it control him again. He pushed the beast back into his mind, not letting it slip out. As much as he might of wanted to fight as well, tangling with Renekton could lead to disaster. He would either die, or have to answer to Swain as to why the reptile was dead, neither looked very promising.
He gave a low grunt at the offworlders comment. "Humorous. You're a funny one, aren't you croc?". He motioned to the dead deer next to him. "Late night hunting, but no worthy game around here." he said as he gave the carcass a kick, sending it off the rock.
"Surprised to see someone of such high profile out here." he asked Renekton. Maybe predators just think alike, he mused to himself. A internal bloodlust that needed to be filled.
Post by Butcher of the Sands on Oct 30, 2013 9:47:39 GMT -5
Renekton continued to hang back at the edge of the clearing, still not trusting Warwick's self-control just yet. Though the werewolf had not attacked him, predicting his actions was impossible. As such, the Butcher merely laughed, throwing back his head slightly and emitting a short, deep, half-roar sound at Warwick's statement that he was "a funny one." While he was inclined to take offense at the other man for calling him "a croc", he let it slide--for this once--not wishing to incite a confrontation. Instead, shaking his head, Renekton replied in an equally serious tone, "Well, that is not a compliment I get everyday. I do not believe I have ever received that particular comment before."
At the Blood Hunter's mention of a lack of good prey, Renekton simply nodded once, a strange light coming into the reptilian eyes of the demigod. Perhaps they did have a little more in common than he had previously realized. Though the werewolf's soul was darker than most--he had after all committed heinous acts in the war between Noxus and Ionia--it occured to the Culling Blade both of them had one thing in common: they both were apex predators.
To the other champion's question of his being out in the forest at night, it was the Butcher's turn to grunt. "A short stroll about the countryside," he explained, "turned into a trek. I had not intended to remain so late outside of the wall's of Noxus when I set out this morning, but events have worked against me. When the gates closed for the night, I decided to peruse further instead of climbing the walls."
"There is no such thing as innocence. Only varying degrees of guilt."
Post by The Blood Hunter on Nov 6, 2013 4:03:26 GMT -5
"Taking a stroll? I guess even "gods" can be bored." He put emphasis on "god", saying it in a dismissive manner.
Dried blood covered his claws and snout, giving him a more feral appearance. The pale moonlight shined on him, lighting the dark crimson that covered him.
Even though he still remained hidden, Warwick could smell his location. Renekton lingered along the north-western edge of the forest. He didn't know why he hadn't showed him.
"Why the shyness? Afraid of the big, bad wolf? I promise I won't bite." Warwick chuckled to himself. It was probably unwise to provoke Renekton, but he wasn't afraid. Perhaps he might find his game tonight after all.
Ah, the full moon at midnight, it was her favorite time of day. Marcy walked among the trees, having been out on a midnight walk she had felt the smell of blood in the air. Causing her to alter her path a little. The vampire's vision was perfect in the dark, seeing Warwick having feasted on the deer on the ground she assumed it was safer to approach the Werewolf.
Looking along the tree line she noticed another familiar figure, Renekton. Moving silently she took cautious steps, making sure to be as silent as possible as she made her way to Renekton. She decided it would be the safest to be near him if the werewolf decided to hunt her.
Making her presence known by coughing slightly as she approached Renekton. "Good Evening, Renekton," She looked over at Warwick, "Warwick." She nodded towards them. "Lovely night out tonight." She said and leaned against a tree, not too far away from Renekton.
Post by Butcher of the Sands on Nov 9, 2013 20:27:14 GMT -5
The reptilian god had almost had enough with Warwick. When Marcy approached Renekton, he had been about to stride out of the shadows enveloping him at the edge of the clearing and confront the werewolf. At the cough, his head snapped to the side to evaluate the individual who had made the noise. As tense as he was at that moment, he had flexed his talons readying himself to strike out if a threat had presented itself. Upon sighting Marcy however, he relaxed his stance a tad, recognizing her as the vampire from the Crimson Lips bar. Why she had chosen to greet him, in a forest, in the middle of the night, escaped him. Regardless, she was fortunate he had recognized her, or else that might have been her last greeting in this world.
Gazing at her with eyes tinted red, betraying the fury building up inside of him, still slightly on edge, he nodded a greeting to the vampire. In a guarded tone, he rumbled in response, "Good evening. Yes, it is a lovely night, if one cares about such things. You are lucky I did not tear you to shreds. You would remember next time to approach me carefully."
And then turning back to Warwick, he strode boldly out before the werewolf, eyes flashing and teeth bared dangerously. His voice becoming more and more guttural as his fury built, he stated matter-of-factly, "The only thing "big" and "bad" here is your choice to taunt me. You will only encourage me to reveal to you what exactly happens to those who dare to anger a god. And you and I both do not want that to happen."
Coming to a stop about twenty meters from Warwick, Renekton's eyes did not stir from the werewolf's form, readying himself for a quick fight if Warwick attacked. As such, the Butcher crouched ever so slightly, arms out at his sides, talons fully splayed for maximum slashing. If it was a tussle the mad man wanted, it was a tussle he would get. The demigod assured himself he would only knock Warwick out since he wanted to avoid killing the champion of Zaun. The Grand General would be very displeased it that did happen.
Post by The Blood Hunter on Nov 15, 2013 21:37:53 GMT -5
Warwick smelled the stench of the vampire as she approached. He had a strong dislike for the undead since his visit to the Shadow Isles so many years ago. He didn't say a word to her, only acknowledging her with a grunt.
Warwick leapt from his rock as Renekton approached him. The full moon behind him, his shadow stretched across the field, Only the his eyes stood out, two bright red orbs on a monster of black. He walked towards Renekton, metting him halfway there.
He said no towards until the two were no more than a few meters away. The two predators stared each other town. Warwick broke the silence with a laugh. "So serious, I guess that is to be expected from a god. I've had my fill of blood for tonight. he told the Butcher.
He would not start a fight, but if the Butcher did, he would be ready to oblige him.
The Vampire swallowed when she saw Renekton going out towards the Werewolf, this looked like it was taking a turn for the worse. Instead of sticking around to see who would emerge on top if a fight were to break out she took a step back, then another, then another. Having walked about twenty meters backwards into the forest before finally turning around she began walking back towards Noxus.
She did not want to see a fight between the two beasts, and who knew, if the Werewolf came out on top, what would prevent him from attacking her. As soon as she exited the forest again she relaxed, the walls of Noxus was a reassuring sight. Soon, she'd be home.
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