Bull looks up at the noise, alert suddenly, a part of him thinking-
But no. No, of course it's just a deer. He should know better. He knows no one comes out to the woods any more. His own fault, probably. Now if he could just get it through his head that he's decided to stick around anyway, that this is just how things are until he's done, whatever 'done' ends up meaning, if he could just ignore that pull inside him making him so alert for anything that can think and speak and fill this heavy, empty thing inside of him-
The berries he'd been picking pop in his fist, red juice spilling over his hand. He grimaces, watching as it stains his skin, and rubs what isn't already drying there off onto his pants. Pants today, even if the fleshy tail sticking out over the low-slung waistband and the black, furred legs and hooves coming out from their cuffs all sort of ruin the look. Leaving the shoes back in his tent just helps remind him that there's not going to be anyone around to put that particular show on for, with the Chargers gone, and leaving the skirt in his tent with the shoes means he can dig around here looking for anything sort of almost fruit-like without worrying about stains. The pants are casual, approachable, so stains are fine; the skirt's for the kind of immediate distraction that might stop a stranger's fight or flight crap from kicking in, so he should probably try to keep that looking nice.
Not that that's going to be a problem, probably. Having to look good for anybody. Which is fine. It's only been, what, two months? A little more? One of those girls had needed a distraction, something good instead of thinking about everything she was about to leave behind, and he'd been happy to give it to her. That'd been early on, before all the rumours about the monster in the woods - a fiend, surely, waiting to hypnotize the good hardworking people of this town - started to fly around, and people decided they had a good reason to stay away. It's fine. The one round a couple months ago, with how well fed he'd been up until then - fine. Not really a big deal. He's held out longer than that.
Some of those rumours must be his fault, too, and not just because of that string of missing girls. The guards are part of it probably, their injuries, and he wonders if he should have just killed them, if hiding bodies would have kept people from getting as worked up as they did seeing their friends come back from patrol all bloody and, in a couple cases, a little gouged.
Too late to do anything about it now. They're already alive to tell the tale: a monster coming right into the town under the cover of night! Stealing women! Attacking the brave, well-trained, and totally alert watchmen before they could blink! It'd given him a chuckle, the first time one of the girls told him about it. It's always funny, hearing someone talk you up just because they don't want to look bad for getting their ass kicked.
Got a little less funny when some of his regulars stopped coming around, when the rest got a bad case of cold feet and started warning him off. But he probably should have known that it was going to happen.
So. Berries. He thinks fruit has something to do with it, and fermentation, and sure some of this is poisonous to humans but with none of them coming around, he's going to be the only one drinking it. He focuses, pushing through some bushes, grabs another couple berries - and stops again, looking up at the sky in time for the first heavy raindrops to hit him right in the empty eye socket.
"Come on," he growls, like there's anyone around to hear. "Really?" Another round of thunder rumbles across the sky and he takes a slow breath, lets it out. Even when that guy with the cottage at the outskirts of the town isn't giving him the cold shoulder, when staying out of the big storms that way was still an option, thunder's not his favourite thing. Makes it harder to hear anything, including threats. But the town isn't big enough to have the kind of actually trained soldiers who'd have a chance at taking him on, and he thinks they know that. Otherwise they'd have started sending parties out into the woods by now. He'll just go back to his tent, he'll wait it out, and it'll probably be fine.
witcher au for wolfdogwitcher
But no. No, of course it's just a deer. He should know better. He knows no one comes out to the woods any more. His own fault, probably. Now if he could just get it through his head that he's decided to stick around anyway, that this is just how things are until he's done, whatever 'done' ends up meaning, if he could just ignore that pull inside him making him so alert for anything that can think and speak and fill this heavy, empty thing inside of him-
The berries he'd been picking pop in his fist, red juice spilling over his hand. He grimaces, watching as it stains his skin, and rubs what isn't already drying there off onto his pants. Pants today, even if the fleshy tail sticking out over the low-slung waistband and the black, furred legs and hooves coming out from their cuffs all sort of ruin the look. Leaving the shoes back in his tent just helps remind him that there's not going to be anyone around to put that particular show on for, with the Chargers gone, and leaving the skirt in his tent with the shoes means he can dig around here looking for anything sort of almost fruit-like without worrying about stains. The pants are casual, approachable, so stains are fine; the skirt's for the kind of immediate distraction that might stop a stranger's fight or flight crap from kicking in, so he should probably try to keep that looking nice.
Not that that's going to be a problem, probably. Having to look good for anybody. Which is fine. It's only been, what, two months? A little more? One of those girls had needed a distraction, something good instead of thinking about everything she was about to leave behind, and he'd been happy to give it to her. That'd been early on, before all the rumours about the monster in the woods - a fiend, surely, waiting to hypnotize the good hardworking people of this town - started to fly around, and people decided they had a good reason to stay away. It's fine. The one round a couple months ago, with how well fed he'd been up until then - fine. Not really a big deal. He's held out longer than that.
Some of those rumours must be his fault, too, and not just because of that string of missing girls. The guards are part of it probably, their injuries, and he wonders if he should have just killed them, if hiding bodies would have kept people from getting as worked up as they did seeing their friends come back from patrol all bloody and, in a couple cases, a little gouged.
Too late to do anything about it now. They're already alive to tell the tale: a monster coming right into the town under the cover of night! Stealing women! Attacking the brave, well-trained, and totally alert watchmen before they could blink! It'd given him a chuckle, the first time one of the girls told him about it. It's always funny, hearing someone talk you up just because they don't want to look bad for getting their ass kicked.
Got a little less funny when some of his regulars stopped coming around, when the rest got a bad case of cold feet and started warning him off. But he probably should have known that it was going to happen.
So. Berries. He thinks fruit has something to do with it, and fermentation, and sure some of this is poisonous to humans but with none of them coming around, he's going to be the only one drinking it. He focuses, pushing through some bushes, grabs another couple berries - and stops again, looking up at the sky in time for the first heavy raindrops to hit him right in the empty eye socket.
"Come on," he growls, like there's anyone around to hear. "Really?" Another round of thunder rumbles across the sky and he takes a slow breath, lets it out. Even when that guy with the cottage at the outskirts of the town isn't giving him the cold shoulder, when staying out of the big storms that way was still an option, thunder's not his favourite thing. Makes it harder to hear anything, including threats. But the town isn't big enough to have the kind of actually trained soldiers who'd have a chance at taking him on, and he thinks they know that. Otherwise they'd have started sending parties out into the woods by now. He'll just go back to his tent, he'll wait it out, and it'll probably be fine.