Let it never be said that Vidkun made good decisions. Trying to join the Silver Hand had been stupid enough, but this made that fiasco seem downright sane in comparison. If Vidkun had even a single bit of sense, he wouldn't be out here now, tracking down a fucking werewolf.
But here he was, lost in the middle of some unnavigable forest in the Rift without even the slightest notion of where exactly he was or where in Nirn his prey had gone. No wonder the Silver Hand hadn't wanted him; he was a Talos-damned fiasco. Yet no matter how bad he was at tracking it, however, there definitely was a werewolf here. It was somewhere nearby, somewhere close enough that Vidkun was likely to cross its path sooner or later--assuming it didn't cross his path first.
That was a genuine danger. Vidkun was stalking this thing, tracking it down in hopes of eventually capturing the beast--and the Nine knew that would've been easier with the help of the Silver Hand, but perhaps it was best for his purposes that he was alone--but now that he has lost its trail, there was no guarantee that it wasn't doing the same to him. He couldn't be sure the thing wasn't stalking him beneath the cover of the dark forest even as Vidkun wandered aimlessly, hoping to pick up its trail.
By now, though, hours had gone by without either discovering it or being set upon by it, and the sun would rising in just another few. Vidkun would need to find a place to camp for the day, some cave or perhaps a fallen tree that he could use to block out enough of the sun that his tent wouldn't be flooded with light while he was trying to sleep. He would need his rest for tomorrow night's hunt if today's bore no fruit.
And it was just around the time that Vidkun was beginning to resolve himself to another failure--the sixth this week--that he heard the howl.
It was an ear-splitting thing, though far off, and it echoed through the aspen trees of the forest for a few moments before it faded in the night air. Vidkun took off in the direction from which it had come, racing as quietly as possible through the twiggy, leafy underbrush. That, at least, was one of the few things Vidkun could do; he moved with the speed and the subtlety of a stalking sabrecat, even if he didn't exactly have the actual tracking skills of one.
He knew he was getting close when he heard the growl: a low, dangerous, unmistakeably aggressive and animalistic noise that would have sent a lesser man--a less determined man--running. Vidkun drew his bow but didn't yet reach for an arrow; he would need silver to incapacitate this thing, and silver would be seen far too easily in the moonlight. He couldn't risk giving himself away; not when he was this close.
Vidkun kept creeping forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beast. Off to the right, he heard another low growl, much louder and closer now; he was closing in on it, and while the aggressive noises kept coming, he didn't think it had caught sight of him yet. It could probably smell him, though, and hear his footsteps; Vidkun wondered how close he would have to be before this thing would be able to hear even the heart beating in his chest. Werewolves were amazing creatures, really. Deadly, awe-inspiring, and beautiful.
To his surprise, Vidkun could actually hear the beast's breathing as he drew near, a loud, labored panting that spoke perhaps of some kind of sickness--but Vidkun was fairly sure the beasts couldn't take ill, so he rather doubted that could be the case. Surely by now he was close enough for it to hear him, though, and yet it still hadn't run. Perhaps something was wrong with it after all.
When the massive, shadowed body of the creature came into view, Vidkun felt himself go still, a kind of panicked paralysis that left his body frozen while his mind whirled. He needed to bring this thing down, not to kill it but to incapacitate it. He didn't want the thing dead; he just had to make sure it wouldn't be able to fight back.
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timeasmymeasure
Howl [1/?]
Date: 2016-02-25 06:08 am (UTC)But here he was, lost in the middle of some unnavigable forest in the Rift without even the slightest notion of where exactly he was or where in Nirn his prey had gone. No wonder the Silver Hand hadn't wanted him; he was a Talos-damned fiasco. Yet no matter how bad he was at tracking it, however, there definitely was a werewolf here. It was somewhere nearby, somewhere close enough that Vidkun was likely to cross its path sooner or later--assuming it didn't cross his path first.
That was a genuine danger. Vidkun was stalking this thing, tracking it down in hopes of eventually capturing the beast--and the Nine knew that would've been easier with the help of the Silver Hand, but perhaps it was best for his purposes that he was alone--but now that he has lost its trail, there was no guarantee that it wasn't doing the same to him. He couldn't be sure the thing wasn't stalking him beneath the cover of the dark forest even as Vidkun wandered aimlessly, hoping to pick up its trail.
By now, though, hours had gone by without either discovering it or being set upon by it, and the sun would rising in just another few. Vidkun would need to find a place to camp for the day, some cave or perhaps a fallen tree that he could use to block out enough of the sun that his tent wouldn't be flooded with light while he was trying to sleep. He would need his rest for tomorrow night's hunt if today's bore no fruit.
And it was just around the time that Vidkun was beginning to resolve himself to another failure--the sixth this week--that he heard the howl.
It was an ear-splitting thing, though far off, and it echoed through the aspen trees of the forest for a few moments before it faded in the night air. Vidkun took off in the direction from which it had come, racing as quietly as possible through the twiggy, leafy underbrush. That, at least, was one of the few things Vidkun could do; he moved with the speed and the subtlety of a stalking sabrecat, even if he didn't exactly have the actual tracking skills of one.
He knew he was getting close when he heard the growl: a low, dangerous, unmistakeably aggressive and animalistic noise that would have sent a lesser man--a less determined man--running. Vidkun drew his bow but didn't yet reach for an arrow; he would need silver to incapacitate this thing, and silver would be seen far too easily in the moonlight. He couldn't risk giving himself away; not when he was this close.
Vidkun kept creeping forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beast. Off to the right, he heard another low growl, much louder and closer now; he was closing in on it, and while the aggressive noises kept coming, he didn't think it had caught sight of him yet. It could probably smell him, though, and hear his footsteps; Vidkun wondered how close he would have to be before this thing would be able to hear even the heart beating in his chest. Werewolves were amazing creatures, really. Deadly, awe-inspiring, and beautiful.
To his surprise, Vidkun could actually hear the beast's breathing as he drew near, a loud, labored panting that spoke perhaps of some kind of sickness--but Vidkun was fairly sure the beasts couldn't take ill, so he rather doubted that could be the case. Surely by now he was close enough for it to hear him, though, and yet it still hadn't run. Perhaps something was wrong with it after all.
When the massive, shadowed body of the creature came into view, Vidkun felt himself go still, a kind of panicked paralysis that left his body frozen while his mind whirled. He needed to bring this thing down, not to kill it but to incapacitate it. He didn't want the thing dead; he just had to make sure it wouldn't be able to fight back.