Clash |Éamonn|

[Daae]

There was a time when Daae considered the dark of the moon extraordinary. She'd been seven or so and the Druid camp she'd been born into had always devolved into a flurry of activity, taking advantage of the few short hours available without the glowing silver orb. Now? Now Daae ignored the empty space in the sky with the same single minded purpose she used to ignore the rest of her past. Stargazing was for bored ladies and lazy fools. As she was neither, the trapper kept her eyes on the world she was in and left the heavens and their cycles to the Druids to ponder. Still, she hadn't lit a fire... curious how that small tradition from her first camp clung to her as she moved easily through the heart of the wood. Her eyes were used to the velvety darkness, her boots light amid the leaves and the bracken. At Daae's side her white wolfhound, Beast, fairly glowed in the light of the scattered stars that managed to twinkle down through the canopy. The silver light, pale in comparison to the rays of the missing moon gave the whole wood an eerie radiance, almost turning the common trees into something ethereal.

Knock it off, silly girl. Daae's inner voice was the same one she used to scold her hound and she scowled at herself. She couldn't afford to be distracted tonight. Certainly not by her own fool thoughts. Something had been stirring up the nocturnal inhabitants of this part of the wood and when the animals were off, so was the woman who hunted them. A thriving population of critters was what ensured that Daae would have a job in the area for many years to come. Whatever was disturbing the forest had been coming through here, large enough to warrant the bow that was held at Daae's side and the arrow held loosely in her hand. Her pace didn't falter as she and her four-legged companion dashed through the trees. Daae easily hopped a half-fallen tree even as Beast squeezed under it, his tail held high and proud like a white banner.

"Stad, Beast," The command was barely a whisper but the dog froze in his tracks the same moment Daae skidded to a halt, her boots sliding in the dirt. Perfect silence. Someone who didn't know what they were doing would have heard silence and been at ease but the young trapper knew better. Her honey-colored eyes narrowed warily, scanning the heavy shadow. The woods at night were meant to be alive with sound. Owls, frogs, weasels, raccoons, deer... all harmless and all meant to be about after sundown. There wasn't so much as a vole wiggling in the underbrush. Curse the moon and its monthly disappearance. Whatever she was tracking was large and hidden and it was putting her ill at ease. She was a match for any of nature's creatures, no matter how fierce but if the thing she was hunting was less natural and more supernatural she might find herself easily outmatched. Daae herself was half wild and things of fur, feather, and fang were not feared by the petite woman, but respected. An odd philosophy for a hunter, perhaps, but Daae's oddities were what kept her alive.

Or maybe it was just a drunk knight on a bender out shagging sheep and scaring the bejesus out of her game in the process.

She clicked her tongue and Beast took off into the trees, a white ghost in the darkness. Daae was slower to follow. Something had her senses tingling and she kept her eyes sharp and her arrow nocked to the string. Despite the silence, she wasn't alone in the forest and the fact that she didn't know what was out there with her was making her as tense as her bowstring.

[Éamonn Goronwy]

To say Éamonn was not in a good mood would probably win the award of understatement of the year. He was fuming, cursing inwardly about everything that came his way. Stupid moonless night (normally he loved such nights), stupid cowardice of his ‘employers’, stupid thoughtfulness of his victims to spoil his carefully laid out plans in the last minute, stupid life he led anyway, stupid, stupid, stupid!
The reason why he was so angry? Oh that could be easily guessed. It was a moonless night, perfect to wallow in shadows, perfect in many ways, perfect to kill – just that he had no one to kill, not anymore that was. Not that anyone had bothered to tell him, he had nearly walked in on a most delicate scene, and only his remarkable talents had saved him from being spotted as an intruder with ill intentions.

That was why The Shadow was now on his way back from the manor his supposed victim lived in, through the dark woods at night, fitting into his dark mood. A man with a less fearsome reputation might have felt the slightest inkling of unease concerning his surroundings. Walking the woods at night was not the best of ideas, it could easily get you killed. But Éamonn of course had no such fears. He was the one doing the killing, not receiving its curse, and the man to sneak up on him and then even besting him in a very unfair fight had yet to be born. And who was afraid of a fetus?! Certainly not him! But his confidence didn’t do the trick in raising his mood tonight, he needed an outlet for all the tension that always built up inside him before a killing. He could lash out at tree trunks of course, but where would be the fun in that? No… he needed to see the fear in someone’s eyes to cool off!

As if his wishes had been answered he suddenly spotted a figure moving through the woods in front of him. No… two figures it was… one smaller and more bouncy… a dog. Huh… that was unfortunate. Dogs were known for not taking it well if their masters were attacked, but then again The Shadow was positive he could outwit any mutt when it came to that, he had come past many in his life after all. As he crept closer, melting into the trees, the brushes and the shadows, he found his newest victim to be a young woman. Now a wolfish grin spread over his face, things finally started to look up. He would scare her a bit, and then maybe demand a little prize to let her live… not bad… not bad at all.
But he also realised he needed to be more cautious than usual, as this woman had the air of knowing what she was doing in the woods. He admired her lissom movements, and she had a bow ready to shoot on sight.

Only that she wouldn’t see him until it was too late. Weapons and dogs, those were obstacles, challenges even, but no hindrances for The Shadow.
She seemed alarmed now, maybe she was sensing something, and so he stopped and melted into his surroundings even more, waiting for her to start walking again. Her dog was now barging through the trees into the wrong direction, it was clear he had not found out the whereabouts of the man who would come down on his mistress yet.
Careful not to make even she slightest sound, he slipped a curved knife out of his sleeve where he had it hidden away and came up behind her, a ghostly, anticipating grin on his masked face.

Before she could start to realise the presence behind her, his arms darted forward, the one holding the knife pressing against her throat, the other wrapping around her slim waist.
“Good evening, fair maiden, can I borrow a few minutes of your time?” he whispered in his favourite low, menacing tone.