“Hush!” cut Vilkas in a hiss, putting his hand on Skjoll’s mouth. “It’s going to hear us!” he whispered.
“What do we do then? What is this?” asked Skjoll in a breath. “There is a body under this thing.”
Vilkas could hear the sound of suction. He took a few step, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“Stay here Skjoll.” His voice was low, almost like a growl. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know the smell of that thing. It was too coated by the smell of blood. A hint of human perhaps? But definitely no human would do something like that.
Vilkas drew discreetly his great-sword out.
“Vilkas!” whispered Skjoll.
Or he thought he had been discreet. The thing had its eyes on him. Red. Vilkas remained still, holding his breath. Above them, Masser and Secunda just started their ascension in the sky, the light of their robes slowly descending on Nirn. That’s when the wolf’s eyes saw it. The blood around its mouth, soaking its lips like a macabre make-up. The sharp fangs. The strong gleam of its eyes.
“Vampire...” Vilkas breathed out in shock.
The creature had to hear him because it was quickly on its feet. Its hood was shadowing its face, but the black rags that covered its body revealed that it was a female. Vilkas’s eyes went to the body at her feet. It was a farmer. His throat had been slit, his ribcage pulverised. The beast roared inside and without a thought, Vilkas ran with cry, his greatsword out, his spirit focalised on one thing: killing the thing. He wanted to end the fight as soon as possible. It wasn’t a good thing to engage a close combat with a vampire. He didn’t care if he was bitten, the beast blood immunizing him from sanguinare vampiris, but vampires were sly, perverted creatures... and he didn’t want Skjoll to be harmed.
The vampire roared in return, her burning eyes being the only thing that disassociated her from shadows as the night fell on them. Vilkas struck her with quick blows, aiming for her head or her arms: dressed in rags, her skin won’t resist to his Skyforge Steel Greatsword. But she avoided his strokes, moving to a side or another, flexing her back to dodge his horizontal strikes. Vilkas grunted in challenge. The beast grunted too. They wanted her to fight for her life.
He pushed her with an arm. She staggered. The beast howled.
Now!
With a cry of victory, Vilkas knock his greatsword down on her. With this blow, he will slit her skull.
klang!
Ah, the delicious sound of a broken skull! ...Wait...Klang?! Instead of a low crack, the vampire skull resonated with a metallic sound. And her skull was not broken. Vilkas stepped back.
Re: Huge onyx wings behind despair (Until the light takes us/A dream of wolves in the snow) [3/?]
“Hush!” cut Vilkas in a hiss, putting his hand on Skjoll’s mouth. “It’s going to hear us!” he whispered.
“What do we do then? What is this?” asked Skjoll in a breath. “There is a body under this thing.”
Vilkas could hear the sound of suction. He took a few step, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“Stay here Skjoll.” His voice was low, almost like a growl. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t know the smell of that thing. It was too coated by the smell of blood. A hint of human perhaps? But definitely no human would do something like that.
Vilkas drew discreetly his great-sword out.
“Vilkas!” whispered Skjoll.
Or he thought he had been discreet. The thing had its eyes on him. Red. Vilkas remained still, holding his breath. Above them, Masser and Secunda just started their ascension in the sky, the light of their robes slowly descending on Nirn. That’s when the wolf’s eyes saw it. The blood around its mouth, soaking its lips like a macabre make-up. The sharp fangs. The strong gleam of its eyes.
“Vampire...” Vilkas breathed out in shock.
The creature had to hear him because it was quickly on its feet. Its hood was shadowing its face, but the black rags that covered its body revealed that it was a female. Vilkas’s eyes went to the body at her feet. It was a farmer. His throat had been slit, his ribcage pulverised. The beast roared inside and without a thought, Vilkas ran with cry, his greatsword out, his spirit focalised on one thing: killing the thing. He wanted to end the fight as soon as possible. It wasn’t a good thing to engage a close combat with a vampire. He didn’t care if he was bitten, the beast blood immunizing him from sanguinare vampiris, but vampires were sly, perverted creatures... and he didn’t want Skjoll to be harmed.
The vampire roared in return, her burning eyes being the only thing that disassociated her from shadows as the night fell on them. Vilkas struck her with quick blows, aiming for her head or her arms: dressed in rags, her skin won’t resist to his Skyforge Steel Greatsword. But she avoided his strokes, moving to a side or another, flexing her back to dodge his horizontal strikes. Vilkas grunted in challenge. The beast grunted too. They wanted her to fight for her life.
He pushed her with an arm. She staggered. The beast howled.
Now!
With a cry of victory, Vilkas knock his greatsword down on her. With this blow, he will slit her skull.
klang!
Ah, the delicious sound of a broken skull! ...Wait...Klang?! Instead of a low crack, the vampire skull resonated with a metallic sound. And her skull was not broken. Vilkas stepped back.
“How is it possible... I just...”
“Vilkas! Watch out!”