On the outskirts of the woods, a plume of smoke could be seen veiling some of the smaller stars. The bright flames previously smothered; the wildlife would resume chatter. The wind carried the faint smell of new death. 

Strands of silk cradled her in a canopy of web in the trees. Her long, white hair gently draped over her bare, ghastly pale human form. A trickle of dark blood fell from her resting head, forming a blackened puddle splattered across the dry leaves below. Currently, grief was more overwhelming than the wound. The gash was not deep enough to be fatal, but it had knocked her back by surprise, a split down the crown and between the eyes. She had released a haunting screech at the time, her arms and legs skittering back to retreat to the darkness. Her attacker, a generic and worthless huntsmen, had fled on foot elsewhere. 

"Silver-Face", a local monster legend, had built her home here. It was ideal: few travelers ventured far enough to find her, and with each night that she was well-fed, she could relocate with general ease to keep ahead of the hunters. The thick masses of geometric threads was her fortress; her impenetrable solitude. But tonight a committed huntsmen had struck it with flames and destroyed something very precious. Below many levels of weave, a burnt clump of dense web was smashed into the ground. A putrid smell emanated from its origin and a gelatinous orb, flayed to pieces, spilling forth. To the other side of her: a dead horse swarmed by flies, the body still warm. The forest seemed to howl and was ready to descend upon the fallen.

With some of the anchors undone, a fourth of her nest was at the mercy of the wind. It didn't matter. They had found her. This season proved challenging to regain her former strength. In a few hours, if the intruder could not be found, he would surely report this back to his comrades, provided he could make it out of the forest. Luck had sheltered her for now, or perhaps his imagination and fear, leaving her alone to -hopefully- recover in time. An anger in her heart spread through her muscles, increasing a blind rage that could only be quelled by quietly stewing in the thoughts of revenge. She gritted her teeth -powerless things- plotting what sweet death could possibly settle the score.

A familiar crunch of leaves signaled another encounter. In this state, she was grievously wounded and quite weaponless. If it was the previous attacker, perhaps there was a chance that he was not aware that she is the same foe he sought to slay before. The sting of the axe-wound made her sharply inhale. No. That would give it away. She kept her body turned the other way to conceal the evidence.

She winced, shoulders tensing and covering a fleeting glance with a back turned. Her vision blurred under the spell of the concussion; the world centered a dangerous dance of spinning and suddenly stopping. She did not feel confident of what she tried to see. The bleeding slows and she catches a breath - poison on the tip of her tongue. "Be you the one that robbed me of my senses, I swear, revenge will find you before the night is over."

Hunters and the hunted often shifted roles with those higher on the food chain preying on the lesser ones. Beelze was no stranger to that but hardly was she ever on the bottom of the totem pole. Not even in a place like Koschei did she feel threatened; the wolves and vampires didn’t faze her but she didn’t bother to hunt them. One had too much fur and the texture was sickening, and she wasn’t a fan of eating centuries-old corpses. But the humans that came here for business or other reasons were fair game. The snake demon found plenty of victims to fill her belly but there was a tale that captivated her and made her ponder what this Silver-Face could make for a challenge.

The raven-haired woman in a rather plain attire of a simple cream shirt and trousers made her way from Kurayo and into the wilderness. Many would think that she was a lost and helpless woman and would either attempt to help her or see her as a potential victim. Either way, she would strike upon them without a wasted moment. Beelze could sense right away that something wasn’t completely right. The scenery felt too odd like something could be watching her from away. It was a rare treat for her to feel like so many prey that fell by her own hands. Emerald eyes kept a good watch up amongst the trees as if she was anticipating an attack from above. The further she went into the thicket, the more the unsettling feeling rose inside the huntress.

It wasn’t until she heard a twig snap ahead of her that she paused and nearly slithered behind a tree trunk quick enough to evade some man rushing through, half panic and half excited. She glanced at him right as he disappeared and slowly moved back onto her path to seek out this mysterious Silver-Face.

Within a few more meters, she noticed what appeared to be webbing that draped a good section of the forest. Beelze’s head tilted to the side, not fathoming just what sort of creature could be large enough to make them. And further still, there was the scent of blood in the air. Why she could taste the copper in the air, but there was something off about it. It clearly wasn’t human, but like the webbing, she didn’t know what it belonged to.

“Hello? Anyone out here?” She stopped moving as she heard the threat in the wind before following the direction over to what appeared to be a woman. Slender and halfway showing herself. Beelze tilted her head the other way and drew her hands behind her in a non-threatening manner as she stepped closer. “I know nothing of your stolen senses- unless you mean to speak of a man that had fled earlier.”

Her tone was hushed, patient even, yet her eyes spoke of a far more dangerous situation lurking here. “Tell me, but why would one wish to harm you all the way out here?”

Female. Light and curios. Sylvar's expertise was in tune with touch and weight; a voice could easily betray intentions felt elsewhere. The broodmother lazily rolled over without shame to her form. A trail of dark fluid fell around her nose and fell off her chin. She was old, but not the wisest. The force of the injury put her at further disadvantage. If it were not for mention of a man, she would have had to make a difficult choice.

But to avenge her unborn children was much more promising.

Her blackened scleras retreated to white, brown eyes blinking inquisitively. "My, my, forgive my mistake." Sylvar brought a hand over her chest, as if politely astonished. The blood on her face did not seem to impair her composure. She stood effortlessly on a tight line of nonadhesive thread with one hand holding on a vertical-reaching line. The human muscles twitched and shifted to maintain shape, slightly adjusting to a civil interaction. "You are well-mannered. Much more pleasant than the brute that…" Her gaze shifted, falling away from the damsel. Liars often couldn't hold eye contact. "…I think I was brought here and left for dead."

She knew of few human disguises. To be discovered now meant that she could not return to civilization until a face was forgotten. And that was if she could survive the following hours without a home to retreat to.

"I was intended to be a meal. Or perhaps a distraction. Luckily, this seems to be an abandoned den. I am… hurt, though." Her voice had softened, trying to get this woman on her side until she could recover her strength. An idle hand gently padded around the gash, wincing as she did so. She saw the blood mix and cover over her near-translucent fingertips. "But please! You must tell me where you saw that man go! He has my belongings! I am left with nothing." She tugged on a strand, testing it's weight, before sliding down to the ground, but not leaving the proximity of the dense funnel web. She tried to size up the woman, vision altered by the tilting world around her. Could be an ally of her attacker. Could be a separate mercenary. It could be the biggest mistake leaving her perch, but there's no point denying an identity while suspiciously embracing it. Normal women stood on the ground and ask for help when needed. Survival demanded the broodmother to follow this crude example that she learned of in her time spent in villages.

"Without help, I will surely die out here! I promise to reward you for any assistance."

Ever roaming, ever searching. Curiosity unsated, ever consuming. This was the reality for the small child, a fox demon of small stature. Barely six years of age, already wiser and stronger than most her age. However, this did not change the fact that Akira was far too trusting, easily falling for a kind smile, a nice word, a soft tone. Finally, this downfall became her undoing. She had trusted a fledgling wizard to open a magic portal. "Trust me, I can get you to Sularia! No sweat." Without checking the scenery beyond first, the child practically dove through, excited to return home to her mothers. Sit up and take in the surroundings, scramble to the closing portal, only to be too late to fix the mistake.

"Akira? Where are we?" Yet, the child was caving in on herself, feeling small and shaking from fear. "Hey, what's wrong?" "Can… Akira hold your hand?" The puca, who was peeking out from a fold in the child's white and purple kimono as a ferret, sighed. Wiggling out, it leapt from her, instantly changing until an elvish woman stood before her, holding a hand to the child. Haltingly, it was the child who began to lead. "Forest of dead, forest of ghosts. Don't touch shinies. They don't like that." This was not a familiar part of the forest, there was a severe lack of critical thinking as if her mind was petrified.

Neera suggested they go north, attempting to distract the child with an academic question. "Celeste said… To find north… Find a tree. Follow the moss. But… I have this." From a pocket, a compass was produced. Her mothers ensured Akira could read one, yet the perpetual darkness of this particular forest made her essentially blind. Silently, the pair traveled, the needle guiding the puca who guided the child. A terrible sound filled the forest, a squeal of fright echoed behind it, the snowy fox demon instantly in the puca's arms. While it was not the sound of a banshee or wailing ghost, the scream was frighting. Onward they continued, Akira quivering as her face was buried in an increasingly familiar scent.

Eventually, a single ear twitched as voices drifted through the air. Once more, Akira was innocently hoping assistance was close at hand. "Voices that way. Lets go, Neera!" Where a moment ago terror gripped the heart, an animated child bounced in the puca's arms. Trepidation filled the mystical guardian the closer they approached. Webbing began to densely coat the trees, yet not from a typical arachnid. Two women were in view as Akira was forced to stand on her own, Neera holding her slightly behind, distrusting of the situation. This did not deter the child from attempting to jump toward the women, joyfully greeting them.

"Hai! I Akira. You know way out? We lost." Hyperactive in voice and action, the child was waving enthusiastically, oblivious to the hunt between the two. The stench of coppery blood finally hit Akira's attention. "Are you hurt? Akira can heal!" "Akira!" Neera hissed, tightening her grip upon the fox child defensively. Something did not sit well at the pit of her stomach. A promise was a promise, and no overly trusting child would break it for her.

The huntress hadn’t quite inspected what the woman had nor her temperament when finally addressed. The woman seemed quite docile despite the strong smell of blood coming from her. Had she been wrongly attacked? There was no aggressive stance from the woman nor was there any venomous feelings that surfaced from her, other than what had been said earlier. Beelze kept her distance though, knowing that situations like these could prove deadly once one let their guard down.

“This brute, I take it that he was alone when he brought you here?” Her accent was thick like many inhabitants of Kurayo despite not being from around these parts. She observed the unnatural demeanor of her given the situation but didn’t right out speak against it. Her wounds would collaborate with her story of being attacked and taken to here. It didn’t help to explain the webbings around them. The man that she nearly ran into was certainly a human, and she doubted that he would be able to create this sort of scenery. She, on the other, was an enigma.

But more of her tale came out and slowly Beelze let herself believe it. In these woods, it wouldn’t be shocking to see such abnormalities take refugee and seek out prey. Perhaps the man had sought to use her as a sacrifice to a beast, perhaps even to this Silver-face she had been hearing about. The one that she was personally seeking after. Slowly she rose her arms to cross against her chest while taking a few steps forward. No signs of fear came from her eyes as she stared at the injured, nude woman as she descended from her perch. “He was running as if to escape the forest. By now, I’d judged that he would succeed in a few minutes, provided that he knows where he’s going.”

Her expressionless face molded into that of mild surprise when he heard movement not to far from them. There were voices that followed and soon her arms dropped to her side and she turned halfway to see what was coming but at the same time to keep an eye on the woman in case this was a diversion. Imagine her shock when it was two females, an adult elf and a little girl with fox ears. For whatever reason, her eyes locked onto girl rather than the elf woman. While she was sure the child would make for a tasty little morsel, there was something off about her. Her scent seemed rather familiar to her.

Her head looked back to the female she had first met, “The direction they came from, that was where he was heading off to. I do not need anything other than a fresh kill.” Of what of course, she left that up into the air. Then Beelze looked to the duo, “And what are you doing out here in the first place? Plenty of hunters out there that wouldn’t think twice to come after you.”

Brute? She wanted to scoff. A pitiful human who needed to rely on tools and distractions, then ran away after destroying her precious babies. No, he was a coward and a thief. And he would pay her back for all the lives he stole. Her eyes narrowed, lost in her own thoughts before snapping back to reality for a proper response. "I… I think he was alone." Sylvar was beginning to fall under the pressure to weave this new web of lies. One false move and she'd have to retreat and lose more precious time. It was hard to contain her eagerness, but the state she was in now is barely formidable against a human. Time was of the essence and she needed to get by this woman without bringing too much attention. Or get her on her side. Her information alone was precious and valuable to give Sylvar's revenge a second chance. But then…

Eager to believe her eyes, Sylvar felt the familiar sting of envy met with delight warming her blood again. To have a child brought to the woods was certainly a first. Before tonight, she had only met a few in towns, where she presumed it was much safer.
She looks incredibly young and bursts with energy and excitement. Sylvar calmed her own excitement, pressing a hand to cover a smile. Her hunger to love and nurture overwhelmed her immediate desires.

"Dear child, this is no place for you, but we can find a way out together," she crooned softly. Her gaze adjusted to meet and assess what she believed to be some sort of parent or guardian. For a child to make it this far, well, someone had one hell of a defense. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries here - but something deep in the chambers of this human heart wanted so desperately to be there for the little girl. Or eat her. It was hard to tell which instinct was dominant. It was actually becoming an active mental struggle that began to make her skin feel clammy.
She kept stealing glances between the two older woman, curious as to what each of them could be thinking. Outright stealing the girl from her arms would be suspicious and terrible and a completely bad idea. She wanted to do it. She wanted to grab her and run back into the density of the web. But as she learned today, a torch could destroy all of that.

She almost visibly pouted before stopping dead cold of emotion. Her eyes widened after what she had just heard. 'A fresh kill' sounded… omnipotent. She slowly, fully turned to face those horrible words while the woman addressed the others. She knew something. Maybe not related to Sylvar, but there was a new light to the stranger that sickened the broodmother. It was becoming more clear that she was still in danger. Now it was a matter of which battles to pick and which ones to maybe eat before they realize you're onto them.

She snapped out of it. It could just be some silly cult thing that humans do. Or maybe she's a badass hunter that needs to take down a deer and is too ashamed to admit it. It could be many things. It could be something more benevolent than her wildest imagination. Maybe this mysterious woman had her own grudge set out. It eased her mind a bit, letting her shoulders relax and her demeanor uphold her first facade. Time would tell.

One thing became more apparent above all: she needed to get back to peak physical condition before things got dicey. If she could shed this body behind, she might be able to outrun them and catch her attacker before he escapes. Problem number two comes out to play when she needs to take him back to her domain. As of now, it's a local hot-spot for travelers to meet and greet. No good. She'd have to shake the trail and set up shop somewhere safer. Or she may not get that opportunity. She might have to settle for killing him on sight and keep running until she could find an advantage.

Sylvar shook her head and raised a hand towards the wound. Another wince made up her mind. She positioned herself slightly closer to the couple, careful not to be aggressive under the time constraint. "Mm, Akira, was it? My name is Aria. Pleased to meet you.

"I am not opposed to receiving your aid, if your friend is willing to allow it."

Time stood still as child and huntress locked gaze. Breathing seemed impossible, each rise and fall of the chest cavity felt heavy. Stark terror creatures typically felt when aware of the hunt began to fill her, tempered by the odd sense of curiosity. Slowly, almost eerily, a single hand rose, stiff and pointed directly at the raven-haired woman while glancing up to her guardian. "Safe." The puca frowned upon the child, attempting to gauge the single spoken word. Once the word came to her, Akira was sure that she was correct.

Neera knew that many things could not be deemed safe. This notion was perfectly portrayed by many in Vilpamora, a city the child had grown in. Yet, somehow and miraculously, she flourished and developed decent values despite the plethora of terrible examples presenting themselves to such an innocent mind. Still, there was one more stranger within their midst who was itching closer. Feeling quite defensive, the puca refused to release the far too easily trusting child. "Mage said he can cast Akira home. He lied. Now Akira here. But Akira not afraid!" A snort of laughter unintentionally escaped Neera. "Says the child who begged to be held, and not for fatigue."

Even as the elf desired to guard and protect the child, she could not help but goad her, to steal a giggle, a smile, or even an embarrassed blush; the latter of which was her reward presently. Despite it all, however, the snow haired woman was even closer. If Neera had a say, the pair would already be departing the strange company. However, she has always allowed Akira to make the decisions, only protecting her from danger. The child must learn from her mistakes the consequences to follow. Wiggling free of the restrictive grasp, she approached the injured one. Opening her canteen, water began to lift from the container and into Akira's hand. Reaching out, without touching, the water engulfed her hand as she hovered it in front of the wound.

As the water began to glow a pale blue, it began to freeze. Pain should subside, skin stitching back together, the flames of swelling dying down. After everything was said and done with her magic, Akira shook her hand, the ice instantly melting, watering the ground between them. "Akira like you. Our hair same." With the exception of the silver fur dusting the tips of her ears and tail, she resembled virgin snow. The child stood and turned toward the raven haired woman, furrowing her brows together. "You don't smell injured… But… Does Akira know you?"

Between the mysterious woman of whom she had no idea and the newcomers that came out of nowhere, Beelze’s trust was waning by the second. Still, she kept her face passive or at least tried to. Out of her siblings, she was one of the worst offenders of being impatient. The child claimed that they were brought here by a mage, likely taking advantage of her youth. Such was a fickle world, but it would do the child well to understand that she would have to deal with as she matured. The huntress had similar experiences in growing up, but they only served to make her tougher and smarter.

The injured woman seemed a bit invested in the girl, even against her own wounds and her desire for the man that had caused her harm. Beelze eyed her with some care, with the iris changing for a brief moment. They were more serpentine in nature for that brief moment before they shifted back to normal.

The girl, known now as Akira, introduced herself to Aria and went over to her, against the wishes of the elf, who she suspected to be some sort of guardian. While they spoke, she tried to pinpoint where the man currently was. She would need a moment as she scrawled onto the earth and placed her ear against the ground. Silently she felt for the vibrations from the direction she came from. Given the time passed since she saw him, she was certain he was still about the forest. A few more moments of waiting and soon she picked up on something moving. The pacing was shallow, so it seemed as though they were exhausted. It seemed as though she found the right prey, which brought a smile to her lips. Her eyes lingered onto the small group and widened as she observed Akira healing the woman’s injuries. Such talent for someone so young, why the magic in their bloodline had been to exceptionally strong.

Pity, she would have made for a lovely little morsel. Lifting her head off the ground, Beelze remained on her hands and knees as she approached her. “I doubt it, child”, she spoke before she got a good whiff of her. She had never seen the child a day in her life, and yet she did carry a scent that suggested otherwise. No, she smelled a bit like some of her siblings. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but something was irking her about this.

“Where are you from, child?”

Her sights turned to Aria. “Your prey is several meters away. His pace has slowed down enough, so I assume he is resting. If you wish to strike or for me to do it, now is the time.”