"Aaaa....!" The featureless creatures, the Ferals, instantly moved.
"Begone." Gerrod waved his hand and a freak burst of grey aura rushed forth acting as a spear of energy piercing the ferals that attempted to get close.
Shivering, Gerrod sat down.
His entire body was quickly becoming colder and colder.
He closed his eyes.
His aura weakened and backed away surrounding him closely. A candles flame. That is what he felt.
The blaze in his heart burned him from within. The winter of the world burned him without.
He couldn't see anything. He couldn't feel anything. Sitting by his brothers grave he simply felt, nothing.
The Ferals continued their advance one, two, three, ten and more at a time.
Yet. Yet they were unable to break through the thin layer of his nightmarish aura.
The ground began turning soft underneath him. He didn't move despite knowing it. His aura flickered. He did not dodge the strikes coming from the opening.
He had no need to. He had been sucked into the ground long before it managed to land.
In his mind, he did not have the form of a human, but that of a rabid wolf. His fur tossed and mangy. His eyes wild and untamed. His fangs chipped and broken.
Wandering, he came across a grave. The words were illegible.
Thoughtlessly, he passed it by only to come across another. And another. And another.
'It's a graveyard.' He sat.
He knew what it meant if he was really wandering a graveyard.
"I'm dead."
"Then ...let's search for Thom."
He stood back on his four legs weakly advancing forward. Yet. The farther he walked, the more lost he felt. The more the memory of his brother weighed on him.
The blaze inside him began burning. Burning out of his control. And he did not stop it.
"Aaa...!" Gerrod froze and tilted his head to get a look at the direction of the feral scream.
A part of him hoped there would be nothing there. Why? Because it would mean something he dearly wished was not true.
Yet, there it was. A feral. Featurless, slit mouthed, sharp-toothed and venomous.
A veritably nightmarish howl escaped Gerrod's throat, 'I'm alive.'
He dropped low to the ground. But he stopped. His eyes went wide, 'I'm not human anymore...'
The feral didn't care about his time thinking. It was already upon him. Gerrod glanced at it coldly and jumped to the side clumsily.
The feral missed it's lunge but immediately stood back up and lunged once more at closer range this time.
Gerrod's nose curled back as the smell of it hit him. He charged forward going straight under the ferals attack.
He wheeled around. Before the feral could strike he bite the back of it's throat. His fangs weren't long enough. Not sharp enough.
"Aaaaa...!!!" It kicked and screamed. Scratched and struggled. Gerrod didn't let go.
Soon the screaming ended. Only then did he let it drop.
Gerrod coughed for a long time to get the taste of the feral's blood out of his mouth. That is until he realized that it wouldn't go away. And he didn't have the hands to or water to wash it out.
He stared at the Feral. Something strange was happening to it. Something he'd seen before. Something he didn't understand.
It was being torn apart. Turned to smoke and mist by forces unseen after it's death and sent into his body.
A new weight made itself known on his neck. He couldn't see it but he could feel it. The wolf fang necklace. It was no longer a tattoo but a solid object.
The feral mist struggled violently but the necklace ripped it apart. Soon the entire corpse had disappeared and Gerrod felt a little better.
Suddenly, he wretched. He hadn't realized it before when he was still in a state of shock but, his body was not in a good state. Not at all.
His entire body was more of a frame than a body. His skeleton showed through his mangy fur. His own smell hit him. He tried to escape it but, how can anyone escape their own smell?
By feeling a little better he had opened the door to all of his worst feelings. He had come to realize them. He realized many other things in this time as well.
"I've always been this way." He said mockingly slapping a paw against the hard grassy ground, "I've always been acting strong."
He fell on his side. Despite it being uncontrolled not a sound emerged. He had truly hit rock bottom.
"My world is a graveyard because everyone I love is dead..." Gerrod smiled sadly, "...ironic."
He had taken lives before. He had seen peoples grief. He had been the cause many times. Underground fighting is a dangerous thing after all.
To always look after the families of the dead, Thom if anything made sure to teach him this.
He taught him mercy and compassion. He taught him to love himself for who he was though he never really managed it, he put up a front for his brother.
But now. Now he laid weakily on the soft grassy ground in a form not his own. In a place unknown. With feelings he'd never let flow.
"Pathetic." He muttered as he closed his eyes.
"...Then stand." Gerrod's eyes flicked open and he saw a blurry figure in front of him, "Stand up and live."
"Thom...?!" Gerrod got up but in his rush, he didn't realize how weak he was nor how new he really was to his body and misplaced a paw sending himself sprawling back to earth.
The blurry figure turned around and as it disappeared into the dark it left only a few words, words that almost broke Gerrod down to his core, "I'll be waiting."
"W-wait!" Gerrod finally managed to stand up but the image was gone. The world returned to it's darkness.
He ran forward chasing an invisible image and a very real hope.
But it was in vain.
He was about to fall to the ground again but caught himself. His words reverberated through him, 'Stand up and live.'
He hung his head. Through his ugly whimpering, he managed to scrape out the same word's he'd said before but didn't mean, "Don't... don't- don't wait up damn it!!!!."
He slammed his forehead into the ground but he refused to fall. In his heart, he'd really sworn it this time. He'd live for the two of them.
He had to live.
He refused to die.
Unforgiving. His aura emerged. His world went completely dark.
Suddenly, he took a deep breath as though he hadn't breathed in many, many years.
His eyes flew open and he caught sight of hell. A battlefield. Thousand's lie dead on either side of him.
As he looked about he realized that this place was not the world he came from. It was not the same place he was born. And it was not the underworld nor the heavens.
He stood. Looking down he sighed in relief as he saw his own hands. But at the same time that sigh was because he knew he could do it again.
He could transform.
His aura was the key. His instincts told him so. His soul knew it to be true.
Shiiiiilck. He turned. Several tens of shadows with long weapons were approaching whilst stabbing corpses.
He counted ten. He predicted in his current state he wouldn't be capable of taking them all down. Not flawlessly.
Then a thick fog rose around him. From this fog, a shadow rushed out. Mangy and weak it rushed as fast as it could for the tree line.
"Someones trying to escape!" An arrow missed his eye by a hairs breadth. He sped up as fast as he could.
His aura enveloped him creating a small defensive formation. His instincts told him that this would work for now.
He knew many things by instinct. But he didn't know many things since it was instinct. He tried to tap into some sort of escaping technique, but all his instincts told her were to keep. on. running.
His pursuers were relentless and his body couldn't keep up. He made the decision to hold his ground before he got tired. It would be no use in dying tired after all.
He cut behind a tree and transformed. His pursuers froze at the sudden change. Gerrod closed the distance.
"A noble so far out and alone?" Gerrod's entire body stiffened. Before he fell he caught himself.
Without a second thought, he transformed. His body was already out of breath from the energy required to do so. He took off in a sprint but he could feel whatever it was closing in. Fast.
He felt a wave of frustration come over him. He knew how to escape. He knew that if he wasn't so beaten up that he could have fought. He knew he could win. But he also knew that he was too weak to do so.
"Not a noble... are you a stray?" The voice enveloped the area once more, "A stray... won't you stop running? You won't escape and instead will only succeed in making me angry."
Obviously, he didn't stop running. Especially not after the gloating voice that rang about him.
He neither turned. Nor stopped. Soon he broke the treeline.
That's when he stopped.
"Malmora Ravine." Gerrod finally turned back, "It's a long way down, you know?"
A young girl. Perhaps twelve. Wearing semi plate armor and chain mail underneath. Her back is laiden with twin swords.
Gerrod felt incredulous looking at her, 'That's at least fifty pounds and she was chasing me while wearing that? ...jump.'
He turned back to the ravine. He knew he couldn't escape from her unless by going down.
He took a step towards the ravine. She took two steps towards him.
"Stray. Don't take another step." Angrily, she kept her voice low.
Gerrod smirked inside and took another step looking at her with eyes that said, 'So what?'
He knew he likely didn't have high chances of living and so, he would 'stand up and live' as he wanted.
'No need to hold up an image on the verge of death.' He thought coldly.
"That's it." She snapped her finger and two shadows shot from the treeline.
Within seconds they had caught him. Two fully cloaked figures.
Their aura's locked his own stopping him from transforming or mounting any sort of struggle.
The girl approached slowly. Each of her steps seemed calculated and intentional. "You smirked before didn't you? Why aren't you smirking now-"
He smirked again. A grander smirk, a grimace, if you will. With broken and battered teeth. Fur of the mangiest sort. Eyes so untamed that only the ancients who first tamed these lands would be able to recognize.
Ferocity unlike anything the girl had seen.
She froze. The cloaked figures let up their grip for just an instant.
He saw his opportunity. In two steps he had transformed. On a third step he was behind the girl.
On the fourth step the cloaked figures reacted. But on the fifth step the girl was already caught in his shaky arms.
The threat in his eyes was real and the cloaked figures dared not move a finger.
"You're skilled. How did you end up like this?" The girl asked calmly. Though she froze before it didn't mean she was afraid. More surprised.
Gruff and weary Gerrod didn't break concentration even for an instant as he backed away.
A soft tch was heard from the girl.
Using her as a shield he continued backing away and the cloaked figures dared not move.
"Princess!" Soldiers broke the treeline just as Gerrod had passed the midpoint between the ravine and the forest.
Gerrod didn't hesitate to spin around and show them their princess. He had seen these situations before. He knew there was only one way out.
The cloaked figures don't have any immediately available throwing weapons, and the soldiers do so he put his back to the cloaked figures.
Under normal standards, this would work. But.
"Grrr..." Gerrod felt four hands each with the weight of a ferocious lion slam into his side and send him streaking through the air.
These were not normal people.
'I miscalculated.' He thought as he stood up. His right arm had been totally shattered and several ribs were broken. He knew it.
He knew it because the more he tried to stand the worse it became and the closer to death he felt.
His aura sprouted from the necklace tattoo around his neck. It enveloped him helping to stop the internal bleeding.
He fell on one knee holding his bloody arm tightly.
The princess and her cloaked figures were all looking at him now. The cloaked figures were on guard now. His tricks wouldn't work again.
The Princess looked at him. Calmly, she dusted her armor off.
"A mountain-like resolve." She smiled and did a curtsy, "To the stray, I am Avisazi Ci Shoka."
Unmoving Will. Gerrod knew what it meant to have another name themselves in such a way. It was a challenge. And he was not one to decline a challenge.
Using all his strength he stood. The sound of his bones clashing against one another rang fiercely as he stood. The veins along his body popped like a spider web.
His air intensified. He had decided in that darkness. He swore that he would live for the both of them. And if he died, he would die worthy of bearing the weight of his life.
His legs shook. His body crackled.
His eyes did not sway. His will did not waver.
"I am Gerrod Thom Dradir." He chose. He would take his brother's nickname as his own middle name, he would honor him as best he knew how.
He let his bloodied arm drop and raised his only other arm.
Skin and Bone as he is. He stood.
Avisazi began walking forward. Gerrod stood still.
He couldn't move. Not even an inch. Not even a little.
In a few moves, she had arrived right in front of him. She raised a single finger.
His eyes followed as she pointed to his chest.
"Will you fall?" She said wonderingly.
"I know not what it is to bend." He replied coldly.
He couldn't speak anymore. He was out of breath. His face was paling more by the second.
A small pool of blood had formed at his feet.
She smiled and poked him on the chest.
He stayed silent. Gritting his teeth his entire body shook and a glob of blood threatened to shoot out of his mouth but he stopped it.
He refused to bend.
Even if it killed him. He would die standing.
The veins in his only useful arm burst. The pain reached his threshold.
His eyes started rolling back and the princess smiled.
"Come get him-"
"Princess!" Two shadows shot forward.
The princess and caught Gerrod's eye. Her face turned from triumph to terror in a single breath.
He was falling forward in mid-transformation. His maw opened wide and about to clamp down on her throat.
The level of violence she felt in his eyes at that moment paralyzed her. And not only her but the soldiers and the cloaked figures.
Each and every single one of them felt the world-shaking violence hidden in his eyes at that moment.
She hit the ground a moment later gasping for air.
In her lap, Gerrod laid in his wolf form. He couldn't stay awake long enough to make the finishing strike.
He went limp.
"Medics!!! Save this stray right now or by the gods above I will hang everything that holds even a smudge of your blood!" The Princess lashed out. The soldiers and cloaked figures snapped back to reality.
Medics rushed to her checking her. But she shook them all off sending them to Gerrod instead.
The medic's very cautiously checked Gerrod. They stopped his bleeding with trembling hands.
Despite him being out cold they still couldn't shake the fear that he had wrought on them in that one moment.
He had shown them death in but a breath.
This trauma would follow them for life.