As the blood-red mist of hunger drifted away, Quess finally blinked her way back to conscienceness. Confused, the tall lupine stood up, trying to figure out where she was. Ah! Yes, she was in the Sequeldor grasslands. But how could she have gotten here? She had been in the city, hadn't she? A quick glance at the sky confirmed that several hours had elapsed since her last memory. It must have taken over again thought Quess, having realized that the cause of her going AWOL was her heritage, forever shadowing her, devouring her.

The slender beast licked her lips, half warily, half hungrily, to find fresh rabbit blood still on her teeth, around her jaw. No...How many had she killed? As her legs shook, Quess once again lowered herself to the floor, allowing a tear or two for the dead animal. Or animals. There was no telling how many would be slain when she went into one of her rampages. She decided that this incident, at least, was not as gruesome as the other time in the other city, when she'd slaughtered a human and had to flee. BUt still, Quess knew she was out of control. She needed help, needed someone to keep her in captivity, so she couldn't hurt anyone. But the wild streak fought back in her mind, not wanting to be locked up like the dangerous beast it wasw.

What could she do? The lupine suddenly realized she was still holding a dead rabbit, all of a sudden. She hesitated a moment., And started to finish it, albeit with much more of a conscience than she had before.

Ah, the Salquedor Grasslands. The grass reached high, the untamed wilds easily reaching a man's thigh if not his waist. The grasses were dyed hues of golden brown and faded green. The sun had not been kind to the grasses apparently, and without shadow they had changed colour. No matter, it was still quite the sight. A golden field that looked piled high with riches. A few trees dared to grow in certain areas, and the grasses there were shorter and more natural green. Flowers, too, permeated the area; but still Nathaniel found his focus on the grasses. Perhaps his training in battle forced his attention to it, for now warrior in their right mind would want to cross such a field. It was too perfect for hiding an army in, that could then lunge out and ambush soldiers. He had even heard ghost tales of fearsome beasts lurking in such fields to yank children down and eat them when they lost a toy within the grasses or chased their dog.

Now, dressed in simple boots that truly were more like shoes (for they cut off at the ankle and flared out), loose black trousers and a simple white shirt with a red vest atop it, he stood examining the fields. His sword was at his side, but he wasn't dressed to fight hidden raptors or vicious knights. Ironic, because that was more or less what had attracted him. The Salquedor Grasslands, usually trademarked for their scent of fresh flowers, carried a different smell on the wind. It was a harsh mettalic smell, not unlike copper. But the yards of crushed grasses that made a loose path, painted in reds and with tufts of fur scattered where torn flesh on bone did not, implied a far more sinister cause. Torn to bits he didn't know whether it was rabbit or deer, but he did know that many lovers frequented this place. He wouldn't stand for anything killing off creatures in the field, be it monster or rabid dog.

So Nathaniel drew his blade, and steeling his muscles began to walk where the grass had been crushed. Every step was heavy and slow, in case something reached for his ankle and tried to tug him down. After a great bit of following he finally met an area where the grasses were shorter and a tree allowed some semblance of shade with which to help his eyes see by. And there, not far off, appeared to be some form of beast chewing on an animal. It looked quite like a rabbit, but he cared too little to think about what it may be. "You there! Beast!" He wanted the creature's attention, and even if it couldn't speak it could likely hear. He afforded it only this much because at his current angle it looked almost like a human painted in furs of animals. He took another step closer and tried again, "Monster, I sa--..." His words died as he recognized what it was.

One of those Loup Garou he heard so much about! Clearly not a human, either. Perfect, a chance to cut down on the race of filthy blooded creatures, and make humans that much closer to superiority. He could even hang its head on his wall, to show off to any who came to visit him. There weren't many of those, but it did happen once in a while. The visits, that was. Stiffening his arm he moved closer to the creature, within lunging range but not close enough to be caught by a swipe. He heard tales about the vicious bloodthirsty attitudes they had, and though he wasn't quite seeing it (it wasn't exactly ripping that food to shreds, either) he knew to never let his guard down. As if she couldn't rip his throat out with a second thought he pointed his sword at her, scowling as a realization struck him.

I don't have armor! If I fight it now, it could kill me. Worse, what if its friends come calling? With great deliberation he let the point of the sword turn to the grass, though did not sheath it. "It's your lucky day, wretch. Apparently I won't be killing you. Though no doubt someone else will exterminate your filth." He was horribly nasty, and had already come up with a batter plan. If she attacked him, he could simply claim self defense. He wouldn't get punished for killing her either way, but it would look better and so he opted for it. If it didn't attack, well, he'd get it next time. "Get out of this fair city, before you taint it with your hide. Go on, get!" For someone who had rabbits innards on the bottom of his boots and no armor, he was remarkably commited. He even went so far as to cross his arms. "Get before I add your corpse to the others I have mounted."

With a muffled cry, Quess stiffened, dropping the rabbit corpse. With lightning speed, her mind ran through the worst case scenario; would she have to flee again now that she had been discovered? Memories and experience merged together at once, recalling the past two lands she had been banished from, narrowly wriggling out with her life. The light-colored lupine gnashed her teeth as his harsh words stung. In that moment, Quess shook her head, finally wiping away the last traces of her beast-like trance and looked at herself for the first time. No. No. No. The blood on her hands, on her face,...It couldm't be. She had tried so hard this time.

But she knew couldn't beat on herself so much for her nature, her way of life. Slowly, quiveringly, Quess turned around to face this sharp-tongued man. She had half a mind to play the brainless beast, but that would have been childish and would accomplish nothing. INstead, she woiuld do better, so very much better, to try and repaint the picture of the lupines, to have them remembered as more than savage killers. But that would indeed require some fancy wordplay, seeing as she was standing here admist what had to be half a dozen rabbit corpses.

"You should not judge others so harshly, Son of Adam. It might be...Disadvantagous to your health"

As she spoke, she bore down upon him menacingly, emphasizing each and every word.

"You cannot imagine the self-restraint required to...To break away from your way of life. Can you not eat? Can you eat grass while next to a steak? No. I try so very hard to..."

Eyeing the unsheathed sword, she added "And put away that sword. There will be no more bloodshed today."

Nathaniel startled when she turned, recoiling back slightly. Blood on her muzzle and claws made quite the fearsome sight. That, and she was at least a head taller than him. Not being a short man, it was unusual to meet someone taller; especially to the great a difference. Surprisingly she did not lash out at him as he had expected, instead speaking. Not the simple crude speech of peasants and pirates either; she almost came across as educated. To think, an educated beast! This was indeed rich, and exhilirating at the same time. Killing a mindless beast was one thing, but one with the ferocity of ten lions and the mind of man? It was a pity there were no witnesses.

"Son of Adam?" He responded in irritation, voice laced with mocking. "I do not know who you believe yourself to be, cur. Im not certain you do either." He sneered, not sheathing his blade. "A beast that talks? Four legs but you walk on two? What kind of backwards demon are you?" He pointed his sword at her suddenly, his movements as sharp as his words. "And how dare you compare yourself to me!" He gestured expansively, to encompass the myriad of rabbit corpses. "I do not act like some wild animal having just escaped a cage. Though perhaps that is where you need to be. You and the rest of your kind."

He was enraged now, ironic for it was the very thing he denounced her for having. But how could he not be infuriated? Some creature dare use him in comparison? Dare use the tongue of humans? "You may speak, but you are a dog. Perhaps it is best someone reminded you of that." Dog, cainine, they were the same thing in his mind. He had no appreciation for animals unless, as she had said, they were served up on a plate. To him, she was little more than a hound that had slipped its collar, and he was revelling in telling her as much.

"Oh? Well then, human , perhaps you should be the one reminded to watch your tongue. It would not be difficult at all for me to rip your throat out here and now."

Though the bluff was clearly just that - a bluff - and this was apparent as Quess eyed the sharp blade warily. She did not want to risk her life picking a fight with this fool, but at the same time, her blinding anger made it as hard to see things clearly as the hunger had.

"My kind? My kind? I have no kind. Not now, not ever. I'm dead to them now. As dead as you will be if you continue to mock me. I have no grievance with humans, but you are indeed making me forget why. For centuries you have slaughtered us - them - humiliated, robbed, and beaten my former people. I should kill you."

And with that, in one fluid movement, the wolf warrior took a step back and withdrew her dagger, still pristine and unused. Still, even as her heart pounded with anger, a part of her still wished she would not have to use it. Though her ancestry had shackled her to such quick tempers, the kind heart within Quess still struggled - sometimes vainly - against everything that Quess was: a predator. For the shortest of times, uncertainty flashed in her eyes, buit that was all the time the gentler side of Quess had, before being slammed back into the recess of her mind by this natural fury. To show her anger, her fury, her disgust at this loudmouthed scatterbrain, she spat on the floor a mixture of blood and saliva. And in that one gesture, she gave him all her contempt.

"Leave now."

"We have done nothing to your or them that was not uncalled for. Where else should humans stand but atop the whimpering masses?" He slowly stepped left, strafing carefully. He didn't want to get tangled up in grass or trip over anything. Slowly his fingers wrapped more firmly about the hilt, and he held it in a stronger grip and both hands. He looked not unlike a baseball player, with his back slightly arched and his sword held parralell to his body. His feet were set about shoulder apart, so he could balance his weight and manuever as fluidly as water. It was obvious by his stance he was not a stranger to battle, and that he clearly had no intentions of leaving Quess to her own devices.

Once she had pulled her dagger he was sure a battle was to come forth, and her spit to the side was only further confirmation for the human that she was nothing more than a vile beast. "I shall save you the trouble of contemplating species politics, and end your life now. Unless you are frightened?" A mocking sneer wormed onto his lips, an expression accented by the dark goatee framing it. "Perhaps that is it, then. You seek to run and cower to protect your own hide. Some fearsome creature you are! Spit all you wish, you're no better than those." He gave a sharp gesture towards the rabbits that could almost be called vicious.

With clear disdain he loosened his grip on the blade, smoothing his hair back with one of the hands he slipped from the hilt. The wind was stronger than he'd anticipated today, and if this horrid thing did fight he would need to be able to see clearly. His hair wasn't long perse, but the actual singular locks had been allowed to grow just over an inch. It gave his hair a wavey look and allowed for highlights in the right lighting, but if he thrashed his head or sweated too profusely the locks got stuck in his face and occasionally obscured his vision. He wasn't suffering from either yet, but best to make sure none of them were even curving towards his face.

He took a moment to inhale the mixed scents of flower and blood, a brutal smile tugging at his lips as he once more let his grip set onto his blade. It was an alluring, despicable scent. He thrived in battle, and yet Nathaniel commonly found himself trying to work against it as well. It was difficult, for in his quest for peace he fed the beast that fueled itself with blood. In time it had grown to be almost over-powering, and he so commonly found himself fighting for no greater good than for the thrill of the fight. All of his old mentors and even a great line of Ancestors would be shamed by his loss of control over these years.

"I offer you one last chance to flee. Submit to the will of man and admit inferiority, or face certain death." He rolled his shoulders nonchalantly. "It makes no difference to me, hound." In the case she chose to fight, his eyes were set upon the surroundings so he could be certain he did not suffer from land disadvantage. This creature likely knew the lay of the land better than he, and Nathaniel would rather not suffer defeat on that front alone. He quite liked where his throat was. He wondered briefly where she may have come from, but set the thoughts aside. Eyes narrowed, he once again lifted his blade and held it like a baseball bat. "Have you decided, creature?"

Heart pounding, Quess closed her eyes, probing her mind for the right thing to do, whilst relying on her acute hearing and smell to announce a surprise attack. To flee was the right thing to do, Quess knew, as to fight would to be pointlessly risking her life. But how could she, how could anyone with warrior blood turn their back on such a challenge, such insults? They couldn’t, Quess decided. And so she would fight.

“You have irked me one time too many, human, son of Adam . I will fight you, defeat you easily, but I will not kill you. No. But perhaps I shall take off your sword arm. How would you like to live without that, human? And see this dagger? It is clean – never yet has it met the blood of battle. And it will not here. I will beat you…Unarmed. Now prepare yourself!”

Slowly, carefully, the white wolf raised her knife, her eyes now open. Then, in one quick flick, she threw the knife down, an inch beneath his feet. She had accepted his challenge, and boasted that she would defeat him unarmed. Then, without thinking, without any signs of what she was about to do, Quess rushed him, twisting around to make better use of her momentum. But the lethal claws of hers were far from pointed at the man’s throat, or any of his vitals. Instead, she aimed for his sword hand, trying to disarm him. To kill him would be simply unforgivable; Quess had never killed a human when control of herself.

In fact, she wasn’t even aiming for any of his important arteries or striking to take the hand off. What she’d said about making any lasting injury had been a bluff. The most harm she would do with this blow, unless the man threw himself in front of her natural blades, would be that she’d impale his palm. It didn’t matter; the important thing was to get within his space so he couldn’t wield that sword of his properly.

Nathaniel startled when she tossed the dagger down, though a smirk touched his lips. "Fighting like a true beast, eh? Fair enough." He didn't believe her that she had never killed anyone with it before, though even if he had it wouldn't have stilled him from killing her. Abominations such as these needed to be hung and made example of, with no cconsideration given. How else could one perform a racial cleansing? It was like trying to weed a garden and leaving patches of weed. You were promised strangled flowers as others thrived. Nathaniel need not think of such things right now though, he had to focus on the battle at hand. His senses became sharper, his eyes more focused. He had no more power than an ordinary human, but for almost thirty years had trained. Even the blood of strong warriors coursed through his veins.

Arms tense and feet planted, he knew not to expect. However, with his coiled muscles and sharp awareness he was able to jump back when she lunged forth, maintaining a proper space to be able to weild his long sword. With tired ease he slammed his weight forward, bring the sword up and downwards in an attack that carried with it his full weight. Before it got close to connecting he drew back though, using the built up momentum of it to slam his body forward and the blade, attempting to impale the wolf. It was a common tactic, but right now he was testing just how skilled she was. Why exert himself if a few simple tactics would do?

"Perhaps I will not kill you, beast." He commented, though his voice was even and sounded distant. "You would do just as well collared and leashed to my table." Nathaniel moved back sharply, once more to put distance between them. His dark eyes were sharp, and the words fell to the ground in an unnoticed fashion. He was simply slinging insults for the sake of such things, needing the sound to help focus. He was used to constantly ringing metal and loud shrieks of agony from all around. The simple whistle through grass and his own harshly thumping heart was not enough for him to remain calm. To wash out the painted world and ignore all but his target.

Besides, perhaps the words would throw her off and she would be thrown into a blind rage. Then her atacks would become sloppy, making her an even easy target for his strong and durable metal. He pulled his sword to the side sharply, holding it outstretched but now parralel to the ground. His grip was sharp on it, his knuckles already turning white and his palms grinding against the steel hilt. Already sweating. Nathaniel had all intentions of severing limbs and arteries he could get at if possible, having little respect for the lupine and even less for what he percieved as a life-threatening creature. She had said she had no intentions of killing him, but he had no way to know if it was true,

In the first second, Quess had been in total control, geared up to disarm this…this…evil man. But in that next second, the white wolf found herself face to face with the more painful side of a blade, her momentum now working against her. Her fighter reflexes taking over, Quess put her wait on the back of her heels, and crashed herself into the ground hard, preferring the skinned backside to the sword through the heart. But lying on one’s back in front of an armed enemy is nothing short of suicide.

Now the lupine had three options that immediately came to mind. Luckily for her mind, which was forced to think extraordinarily fast, these options fell neatly into three categories: offensive, neutral, and defensive. From her point of view, she could kick him in the midriff with both feet, roll out of the way, or do a backwards somersault to gain some space. Or…The more cunning side of her reasoned, Quess could perform all three at once.

Attempting a more complex acrobatic feat than she had ever before, the lupine began to roll to the right. But suddenly, she raised her right foot, claws extended, ready to slice into his stomach if he didn’t react fast enough. At the same time, Quess’ left arm shot across her, ready to push herself up and away from her opponent, and land on her feet a good foot away from the man. This next second was crucial…

Nathaniel backed away quickly, but not fast enough. He gasped as his belly was caught, the vest and shirt shredding under the sharp claws. They were like daggers, and damn if they didn't hurt! Nathaniel didn't think they were poisoned, but would treat the wound later to be sure. For now he had to ignore the stinging sensation. The envirgorating sensation. He had missed this; blood, violence, pain. It was almost masochist of him, but it was one of the few forms of escapism he knew. Some people rode horses through fields, he chose to get into fights. Though he didn't enjoy scars or having some of his best clothing shredded, it was worth the haze it draped over his higher thinking skills. He was by no means bestial, but his fears and worries of the coming days vanished like puffs of smoke.

I suppose its hide will be a suitable replacement for this. Spinning low he forced his weight into his calves, trying to keep his weight out of his abdobmen. It was no deeper than a paper cut; he'd moved swiftly enough to avoid any disasters, but it was still stinging. Throbbing, aching, all of that he could handle, but stinging held a special place in his heart that made his teeth clench and his anger flare. Calm. Calmcalmcalm. Nathaniel forced himself to maintain the mantra, as he spun low to the ground and grabbed the embedded dagger. Lightening fast he had shot back up though, moving back as well so they now were even further apart.

"You fight well, wench." It was his turn to spit to the side, though his lacked any blood. Yet, anyways. He shifted his arms once more, hands tightening on the blade. Instead of outright lunging blindly though, he smiled almost fondly. Almost. "Are you ready?" At least he was fighting fair. He spun his sword in his hand to readjust the weight in it, then let his other hand take it again. Nathaniel didn`t look to his belly; not yet. To do so would show more weakness than he would ever dare reveal.

"I killed a family of lupine last month you know," He smiled coldly. "How the little ones squealed like pigs." It was a bluff, but the delight in such a thing even happening in fantasy was clear. With those simple uttered words he once more lunged at her, running with his back bent like some great thundering beast, lunging to the side though to try and swipe at her side. He would land heavily on his shoulder either way, but he trusted himself to be able to lunge back up quickly enough to avoid being torn asunder during the momentary lull in movement.

Quess too had been smiling as she rolled onto her feet, having drawn first…cut. Didn’t sound very awe-inspiring, Quess reasoned, but one had to dwell on the small joys in life. The lupine growled angrily when the Son of Adam withdrew her own dagger from the ground. It was a possibility that the wolf woman had fleetingly considered, but he had not thought he would. Thought the vain little cretin would think himself too good for her blade. Ugh. She had been careless. Quess began to consider her next move, when his next words stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I killed a family of lupine last month you know,"

That froze the white warrior for a fraction of a second, despite her talk of having been exiled by her people. True, she no longer cared for her particular kin, but her race, they…This coward couldn’t have…Could he?

“How the little ones squealed like pigs.”

If the lupine had hesitated at his first cruel confession, she positively stopped dead at that. How could he have slaughtered the children as well? They were…defenseless. The killing of a minor broke the one of the most important laws in lupine society. No one ever hurt the cubs. Wars were raged, villages were pillaged…But no one had harmed the cubs. In shock, Quess stood still, not responding for the crucial time the man needed to slice into her flank. It was her own cry of pain that roused her from her state of shock. And that pain cry turned into one of grief, and then finally, a war cry.

“I’ll,,,I’ll kill you!”

A furred hand went to her injury, as Quess considered what she had just said. Would she really kill him?...Perhaps. And then the wolf warrior flew at him, letting the wound sting – she wanted to feel the hurt, for the children who she did not know had never existed – and struck, a whirlwind of hate and claws.

She seemed shocked into silence by what he had said, which bought him the needed time to harm her. He landed harshly on his shoulder, and it throbbed in unison with the sting of his wound, but he had enough tiem to scramble up as she uttered her death threat. Nathaniel shifted the dagger around awkwardly before tossing it aside uselessly. He wouldn`t use it; couldn't, though he wanted to. He was not adept at fighting in close quarters, especially against a creature as tall and fearsome as this one. He was also untrained in using both arms, and though he could try to some degree he would undoubtedly tire. besides, for the maximum effect to be accomplished he needed both of his hands on his blade.

Nathaniel was caught off guard by her sudden lunge, bring up his sword to deflect the ferocious set of swings and swipes. She'd make a good fur coat, though it was a shame such 'fiestyness' wouldn't be carried over if he did kill and skin her. Really, he was starting to dislike the idea of killing this magnificent creature though. So battle trained, so intriguing... if only she'd been human, he'd be absolutely entranced. For now, though, he continued trying to deflect her attacks, pausing only to counter once in which he threw all his weight into pressing down against his blade and bearing down on her arms, then suddenly lunged back-- only to hopre forward with the sword swung out at her again.

It was never a smart battle plan to use the same attack twice, but she seemed too enraged to notice such a tactic. He could only hope she did fall for it, because if she kept up with the strength and brutality she currently exhibited his sword would easily shatter soon. Perhaps if he could manuever her to fall on that dagger, or one of the sharp bones left over from the rabbits... "I thought you didn't care for them!" Nathaniel offered, voice a low chuckle as he struck fast and hard.

As she struck again and again, angrily and frustrated, Quess felt a claw break. Didn’t matter – she still had nine other perfectly good claws to fight with. The thrust again. This time, the young warrior was ready. Without missing a beat, and this time, without momentum to ram her into the bloodied blade, she swerved to the side, narrowly dodging the sword. It would have been grateful had Quess not cringed as a raw spasm of pain hit her.

“I. Do. Not. Care. For. Them! I just have a heart, unlike you!”

Each word was punctuated with a clash of claw against steel until the last two words, which came out as more of a guttural shriek. Knowing that brute force was going nowhere, Quess forcibly shook off the clutches of anger and drew back, flanks heaving and her breath heavy. Clearly showing she was not going to make another move on him, by dropping her claws down – but careful not to stay within his lunging range – Quess tried, a bit late, to reason with him once more.

“Get off your high horse, you pompous Son of Adam! Just tell me, tell me , why you think humans are so much better than everyone else? You’re physically weaker, slower, flat out inferior. We – most of us – are just as intelligent, if not more so. So what is it that makes you humans so mighty? Your lack of heart and soul?”

Heh. espite the adreline in her begging to continue the battle, Quess had to hear this. No doubt some zealot pro-human speech.

She backed away heaving, and Nathaniel took the moment to recuperate himself. He stepped back, his chest expanding and contracting quickly with short brisk breaths. His white shirt was stained crimson around where it was torn, though thankfully the vest was already red and thus did not appear any more unusual than it typically did. When the blood crusted brown it would not doubt be a problem though, so he would need to deal with it then. Still, this quick break was good. Nathaniel's body was burning and throbbing, alive with the thrill of the hunt. Unlike Quess he had a lot of experience in battle though, and would not show battle fatigue for some time yet. More than that, though, he would likely need to have both arms and legs severed before he backed down. He was a vicious foe, despite being weaker than most.

"That is just it, beast... " He slowly let the tip of the blade touch the ground, taking the weight as he panted inbetween words. It was a bad idea to mix speech and attack after all. "Humans may not be as strong as the dragons or as durable as mountains, but we are more adaptable than any other race. We can live wherever we so choose, tame any land while other races are constricted. We can take on any working role, use any tool and eat any food. We are the strongest, and that entitles us to the most land. Apparently the other races have dained to breed like rabbits and change that balance, disrupt the order... I just seek to set things right." Nathaniel smiled coldly, rubbing his palms against the top of the hilt to his sword. Easing his knotted muscles.

"I will not speak on your words of heart nor soul though, creature. For truly, I could not imagine a beast to fathom such things. If you truly think such pety insults wound me, though, then perhaps it is I who should pity you." The last person to claim he had no heart had been his mother's sister, right after he'd slain his mother. Like this wolven creature she had been a deluded wretch, with no exterior knowledge of the workings of the universe. His mother had forgiven him though, so who had she been to hold such a banner?

But he couldn't think of these things. Not because they were unpleasant; he was indifferent and passive to them really, but because it could cloud his judgement as he tried to focus on fighting. She didn't look particularly keen on continuing the battle though, and truth be told he wasn't keen on continuing it. He would rest more easily at night if he slayed a creature that had actively boasted of hunting humans. She was frightening and could kill any of those children left out in the streets, but the rabbits scattered about suggested otherwise. Never underestimate your foe.

He would have to wait to see what happened.

“Humans may not be as strong as the dragons or as durable as mountains, but we are more adaptable than any other race. We can live wherever we so choose, tame any land while other races are constricted”

There. Right there. That was where Quess stopped listening to the rest of his blabber, and ran those words through her mind. Twice. Three times. Something about it had snagged her subconscious attention. But what was it?...Ah. Yes. There it was. The lupine let the man finish then, though she really didn’t bother to listen at that point.

“So…That’s what it is. You think you Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve are adaptable ? That you can do things we can’t? That you can live where we can’t? Why don’t I take you up on that?...With a little challenge?”

Before she went on, she slowly walked up to her dagger and picked it up, sheathing it, meaning, as far as she was concerned, the battle was over. Next, slowly, both to be careful not to frighten him into thinking she was to attack her again, and to bore down on him menacingly, dramatically.

“I propose a challenge. You will select a place, any place where we will not receive outside assistance. And we shall see who can last longer? How does that sound, hmm? Of course, I understand if you are ah, too afraid.”

He paused, considering it. Nathaniel didn't sheath his sword yet, but he let his weight rest upon the hilt of it. "I do not mean merely in manner of outside influence." He gestured to the rabbits. "There are those who can do without." He shrugged faintly. "As for your challenge... It would depend what specifically you had in mind." Nathaniel once more smiled. After all, if she meant somewhere outdoors then he would need to know. But if he could somehow find a loophole or some area with which to manipulate the challenge in his favor, well....

"Why would I want to, anyways? What do I have to gain for proving myself superior? I already know I am." His dark eyes danced with amusement though, and clearly he had no intentions of turning down the offer. He was simply trying to figure out how he would do it and where, and how long it might take. After all, he had many things to attend to, not the least of which was writing up a letter to send off to some prospective partner he'd seen at the Wilwarin Pub. He would need to meet with the man, and then no doubt participate in the tournament.

It suddenly struck him how imposing she truly was though, as a cold shudder running down his spine when a particularly northern wind brushed against him. Tall, with big eyes, ears, and teeth. All the better to gobble him up with, no doubt. Suddenly, afflicted by a passing urge and decided to act on it, he tapped his hands against the hilt of his sword and asked, "Do you have a name I might call you? Or shall I simply refer to you as beast?" He bit back a nasty remark that could have followed. He didn't doubt something of such intelligence went by a calling, and if he was going to be challenged somewhere publicly he'd at least like a name to call it... her by.

It was odd to think of something that so resembled an animal as having a gender, but at the same time it was as if he'd done it all his life. A weird sense of stepping forth and backwards, of falling into the sky. Nathaniel, for now, would show some form of honor only for the sake of his old titles. To know the enemy's name was only fair, if not merely so you might inscribe it on a grave. Before he hadn't cared, she'd been no more than a brute in a field, but she had proven herself worthy of the name of warrior.

“Such a…A convoluted way of accepting. But I suppose that’s how you humans go about doing anything, isn’t it?”

This time, Quess decided she’d be courteous enough to listen; it was actually a lot easier when he stopped mocking her at every turn. Of course, this was what the wolf woman had been thinking before the man started going on about his superiority. Ugh. She gave him her most toothsome grin, making sure to flash her bloodied canine teeth. But then, the sneer fell off her face and her her eyes lost a little of their intensity as he asked for his name.

That was the first humane – There were not enough words to describe the irony of that word – thing this man had said – done – yet. In fact, for him, probably, it was even respectful, though he had to throw in one last cut at the end, of course.

“My name…Is Quess. With a Q.”

Purposely, the wolf warrior, still a bit irritated, didn’t bother to ask for his name but instead plowed on with her challenge.

“Oh, but you’d be the one to choose! That’s the point. You live anywhere – or do anything – that you think you can’t I do, and I’ll prove it. How does that sound, Son of Adam?”

(I apologize. My posts are just getting shorter and shorter)

"Quess... fair enough." Nathaniel committed the name to memory as she spoke, not in the least offended about not being asked his name. It only further proved she was uncivilized as far as he was concerned. But ahh, where to prove he was superior. He could drink her under the table, but she'd likely never agree to go to a pub. He could chellenge her to stay one full night in a barn without harming any of the animals, but he wasn't eager to sleep anywhere near the creature. Really, he could even challenge her to finish this fight, though again he doubted she'd go along with it and his chances were considerably lower of walking away unscathed. Why couldn't he have worn armour today?

"As I trust you expect something both of us are capable of, and not something simply I can do, I am... at a loss. I have difficulty deciding on things that would be fair and not clearly put you at a disadvantage." He have a mockingly sweet smile. They couldn't do hunting or climbing, she'd win for sure. He also wasn't eager to spend the night outside and camping; there were bugs, small animals, and all other sorts of things to contend with that would make the night foul. Oh he could do it and had before, to be sure, but like many unpleasant experiences in life, he wasn't eager to experience it again. There was always fasting, but he needed to eat if he was going to be training and things of that nature.

Then again, perhaps she simply meant he needed to issue a place for her to remain and perform. A task which he did not need to perform. In that case there were several different approaches he could take. Throw her in the city for a night, see how long she lasted. With her height and clear physical disposition, there'd be more than one civilian trying to get her to leave. But would she?

Nathaniel paused. He wasn't really going to let some werewolf into the city, unleashed and uncollared, to eat whoever she pleased, was he? But then, what else was there to do? Perhaps if he challenged her to one of those hot volcanoes, to climb to their hot peaks. He wouldn't last long himself, but with her fur he assumed he would make it past the point where she needed to stop. That seemed like a long journey to undertake though, and he had too many commitments. Perhaps a job? But whaaat....

"In truth, I have many commitments, else I should defeat you on many fronts. I can shoot sparrows with arrows, and live on bread and cheese; something your rabbit friends don't think you could do. I can buy and make things for a lower cost than yours because humans sell most of these things and we appreciate our own kind. Even that dagger of yours was probably made at some human's blacksmith shop. I could probably coax a child wolf over before you could coax a human one, if not for our voices alone. Lastly, not only could I drink more than you; I can drink it faster, too. If you doubt me in any of those endeavours say so, I would be happy to prove you wrong. I am under a bit of time constraint though, so if you wish to perform all of them we will need to wait on a few."

Nathaniel's voice dropped dangerously low, mimicing her previously threatening stance as he uttered her same words. "Of course, I understand if you are too afraid." He was bluffing on a number of those things, but he doubted the lupine could tell which ones were true and which were lies. Unless she chose to do all of them, of course. Really, he ought to challenge her to baking a pie. Nathaniel couldn't cook to save his life, but with her furry hands he didn't think she'd manage to make a winning pie either.

(( Hey, don't worry about it! Not much going on to describe, heh. ))

Hmm…Not exactly what she had meant.

“You misunderstand, human – and you seem to be doing a lot of that – I meant something that all humans could do. But it seems you already have your excuses piled high, despite the fact that you can, ah, freely take time off to roam the grasslands? Not a very…constricting constriction, is it, Son of Adam? If you wish to weasel out of this, by all means, do.”

Now, what could Quess herself propose? Well, not archery, that was for sure. Her moderate skill with throwing daggers was counter-balanced by her ineptitude with a bow and arrow. Drinking? The lupine supposed she could count on her superior body and immune system to win that, but Quess detested alcohol. She didn’t even want to imagine the dire consequences of her drinking herself drunk. No, that one was definitely out.

Now, Quess had zero experience with bartering, so she reluctantly ruled that option out as well. ‘Coaxing a human child’? The wolf warrior, unsure of what that entailed, exactly, decided against it, opting instead to propose something else.

“I offer you this – you are a warrior, yes? Would you care to prove that? Could you…Say, hunt down a…Malboro? “

Yes. What Quess would prefer was a good old fashioned hunting challenge? Why not try it? This dispute had to be settled…Somehow.

Nathaniel sneered, almost drawing his blade back up to strike her. His forearms tensed, fingers clenched, and he... did nothing. Forcibly he calmed himself, and it was clear even physically as he tried to abate his flare of anger. How dare she infer he would ever use excuses! Nathaniel was many things, but he was not someone who would attempt to escape duties! If he had, well, he'd have likely taken a leave from his job and still hold it. That thought was nearly depressing though, so he batted it away without so much as blinking. "I weasel out of nothing, wolf. I take breaks between work, something that a beast would know nothing of." His teeth flashed when he said it, and though they were not sharp nor pointed beyond reason it was still an intimidating sight.

"A malboro? Of course." He sneered, as if offended at the very thought of not being capable of the feat. Inwardly, he grimaced. A malboro? Really? The beasts were large; greater in size than even his own remarkable height. They also exhumed poisonous gasses and had vines that whipped about like a thousand snakes searching for prey. They could be a deadly foe if one wasn't careful. The times he had encountered them had been with an army and archers, and by standing back far enough one could shoot it to death without fear of injury. But he had very little experience with the bow, and if he did manage to work one it would take a great number of shots before he managed to hit the beast, much less anything important.

"To what fashion precisely am I to hunt it? Do I merely need to find one, or should I kill it as well? Moreso, how am I to know you could do the same? Will we be hunting the same beast?" That would not doubt make it even worse, for he assumed a forest creature such as Quess would be fully trained in taking down such creatures. Nathaniel, a boy raised in a city and moved between a multitude of them, didn't see much forestry or wildlife. He would have to though, wouldn't he? For he knew of no malboro that would lurk within the city walls.

"Very well, wolf." He lifted his sword, then slammed it into the ground to accent his point, bits of dirt spraying as it became slightly embedded. "I accept your challenge. Provided your... regulations are adequate. Tell me more of this hunt, and I will gladly participate and 'drop' what I was doing. Will that satisfy your bloodlust, beast?" His eyes were challenging, dark. It was funny how he could seem so human and so animalistic at the exact same moment. A dark brow raised in encouragement of an answer.

“So you accept, Son of Adam. I had not thought you would. “

Hrm, a much less aggravating answer than she’d been expecting. As for the jib about not taking breaks? She’d just take that as a compliment. He was keen on the details. And Quess reluctantly admitted that was a good trait to have – kept you alive. In fact, this guy really would be alright if he wasn’t such a pro-human fanatic. What did he do – spend all day kissing their feet? It was a nice day today, a part of her randomly commented.

Why such irrelevant thoughts from such a normally focused mind? Because in another part of the wolf warrior’s brain, metaphorically, of course, her mind was barraging itself. YOU IDIOT! YOU JUST PUT DOWN A CHALLENGE TO HUNT A ****ING MALBORO screamed the logical side of Quess, astounded that she had just done something so stupid? But would could the proud warrior do now, but continue? Nothing. Unless…Maybe if she pretended that she knew what she was doing, he’d wimp out. Or die.

“We will go to the forest – whenever you “job” allows you to. I will show you where I regularly slaughter the beasties, and watch you kill one. If you are immobilized or withdraw, I will fight it. Unless you die of course. How’s that sound, Son of Adam?”

Incapacitated!?!? Nathaniel's mind was screaming with similar thoughts to that of the wolf. There was the 'you are so dead' and the 'are you stupid? or just stupid?' and a number of other things that were rude to repeat in polite company. Needless to say, his mind was realing and buzzing. "If I withdraw? That hardly seems fair, that I should have to do all of the work. What if I injure it enough for you to kill it, or vice versa?" As much as it pained him, he knew he couldn't take one down entirely by himself. He didn't want to let it tear off a limb so that he could withdraw either, though. "Unless I accidentally kill it, of course. In which case I'm sure it is no problem, as you kill them regularly." Much like his comment of killing a werewolf family had been believed by her, so too was her comment of killing them believed by him. Funny he chose to believe the one thing she said that wasn't true.

"I have to be somewhere in a few days time. It is not an appointment I can stand to miss. As to my current work... I will not be missed." He tilted his head, then removed his blade from the ground. Pulling at a cut portion of his shirt, Nathaniel wiped the dirt from the edge of the blade onto his torn shirt with the irritation of a mother raccoon. When he finished he held it up to the light to inspect, then seemed to accept its cleanliness and set it back in his sheath. With an issue challenged Nathaniel now trusted her not to attack him. If she did it'd be terribly underhanded and dirty, and he couldn't fathom that she'd chose to. Like him, she seemed to be a proud warrior. One not given to surrender or being dishonourable. Whatever the complex definition of the latter may be.

"I trust your schedule is not particularly booked, then?" He finished off his ritual by wiping the knees of his pants and straightening his hair. He didn't bother with his shirt because he knew it would be thrown out as soon as the chance arose. He would investigate a tailor to see about his vest though, perhaps that could be saved? Once finished, he looked to the white wolven female once more. "I believe we could both use a bit of relaxation from the ah, tussle. And a bath." Nathaniel shifted his shoulders, visibly relaxing. "What time should we leave at?" Really, his clean up consisted of going and getting happily plastered for a few hours at the Wilwarin inn. They had rooms he could borrow for the night if it came to it, to wash himself and get cleaned up. It was odd to get clean so he could go get filthy again, but it was one of the many quirks society had engraved upon him, along with most of his kin.

He wasn't certain whether Quess bathed or not, but assumed she had somewhere to go if she wished to. In truth, he knew little about werewolves and cared even less.

(OOC: “With the irritation of a mother raccoon” There are not enough words to express how awesome that was, right there.)

Finally. Quess had to give a smile now that she was talking to someone that sounded remotely human, instead of like some childish imp. She’d let him interpret that however he wanted. The wolven warrior watched him tidy himself up with mild amusement, but said nothing of it. The verbal battle too, she supposed, was over. Though Quess had to have one last bit of fun with him.

“How does this sound? The evening of next week – six o’ clock. Night of the full moon”

She sealed the suggestion with her most grotesque smile, hoping he’d believe that she’d be stronger then if she bluffed enough. Of course, this was just setting herself up for a giant fall when this man somehow slew the Malboro, but her pride had gotten her into worse situations than a wounded pride. Unless the Malboro killed her. Eh, she’d cross that bridge when she got there.

“If you harm it sufficiently, I will fight with one arm behind me back., Satisfied?”

Reluctant to be the first to leave, Quess simply stood there admist the awkward moment that ensued, trying not to let her bluff shine through yet. And there was one more thing this lupine had yet to do before she parted, anyways. On a totally random note, Quess seemed to notice for the first time that she was bleeding heavily from her flank…Crap. Pressing an arm against the wound, Quess would let that suffice until she could get proper treatment.

"Next week. That should do--... oh." Nathaniel sighed softly, but didn't argue. He'd let her chose the challenge, and of course it was coming back around and biting him. Naturally he was fully under the belief she would have immense capabilities in the full moon. There was also the problem of seeing the damned thing in darkness, not to mention all the horrid creatures in the woods during nightfall. Her grisly, sharp-toothed grin only cemented the trepidation he felt. He would need to be sure his blade was especially sharp and sturdy when the night fell.

For a moment he considered the easy way out, of simply not showing. It wasn't as if this creature --Quess, could find him. Or want to, really. But what of his pride? His honor? Even his arrogance was too powerful to avoid it, even in the face of a molboro. Perhaps he'd get lucky and they'd fail to find any of them. "I suppose that will do." Of course, his words displayed none of his feelings. His tone was still harsh as he finished catching his breath and left the haze of battle, but it was not sharp with malice or as pointed as his blade. He was indeed finished attacking her. For now.

"There is a healer I know..." Nathaniel was still, quiet. Observant. Watching the white fur stained a soft pink from the mixture of blood was captivating. No doubt she needed a bath as well. He wasn't friends with her though, and had no intentions of taking care of her. The only reason he considered aiding her now was so that she would be certain to last until the following week. He didn't want her to bleed to death, or get eaten by some creature; it'd prove nothing and leave him confused. If she did manage to shrug it off, it could also hinder her when she aided him. With an arm behind her back.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Nathaniel took a half step towards her, body barely swaying as he paused midway. "I can heal that. I wouldn't want you injured while you go and valiantly slay your "beasties"." A coy smirk touched his features, but it held no pleasantness.

The fierce fiery light of battle had died from Quess’ eyes by this time, and her mind having given up on berating her. The adrenaline gone, the wolf now reverted to her calmer self, smiling a little at his kind enough words. The difference between the angered beast and the self-conscious woman were so different, it was hard to tell they were the same person. Oh, if only she’d reverted before she had condemned herself to fighting a Malboro! Not only that, but for the bluff to pull through, she’d have to actually go and find a Malboro in the coming week!

The warrior Quess would have declined the man’s offer in pride, preferring to keep her scars. But now that she was thinking sensibly again, to let herself sustain injuries when she could be healed by who she admitted to be an honorable man was almost, , almost as idiotic as seeking out a fight with a Malboro!

“Thank you” whispered the lupine softly as she accepted his offer, feeling the hurt now, and embarrassed as she recalled her past actions towards this man who was willing to heal her. IN her defense, she had been the one who has slashed her, and she acted in self defense, but the modest Quess wouldn’t defend herself, as usual.

Nathaniel was actually taken back by her soft utterance of gratitude, and paused momentarily. Then, swallowing any doubt, gave a slight nod and moved over cautiously. He didn't want to frighten the werewolf into attacking again, nor did he truly wish to be this close to anything furry. It would allow for the coming battle to be that much better though, that much safer. When she failed and he prevailed it would be that much sweeter, for she could not claim weakness due to a past injury. He set his hand unsurely on her shoulder, the touch light and clearly awkward. Then his fingers twitched faintly, and he uttered softly, "Heal." The spell wasn't awesome or particularly flashy, but it got the job done. A certain feeling in the pit of his stomach, as is his very soul was speaking, told him the task was finished. So, he stepped back. He couldn't tell either way; her fur was already coloured there and the spell would not get rid of such things.

"Until next week, then. At six o'clock." He lingered for a moment, then gave a sharp nod (of approval, perhaps?). He had seen the warrior there, and had seen her call it back. Nathaniel was impressed with the cainine warrior, even if he would dare never speak such blasphemous things. He turned from the werewolf, lifting his hand in an informal, lazy substitution for waving. Walking through the fields he once again carefully manuevered between the bones of rabbits and the thick grasses of the land. When he reached the edge of the grasslands he paused, turning at last.

Nothing. He was too far to see even a speck of the warrior he had just fought. Clouds lazily cruised overhead at the speed of snared snails, and though the sun shone it was still a cold afternoon. Away from the warrior's eyes (or so he assumed) he took a moment to tug at his shirt, looking down at the scrape he'd sustained. It was nothing, barely worthy of being called a wound. Still, he had to give her credit; she had drawn first blood unarmed. An amused grin curled on his features as he turned from the place again, releasing his dirty shirt and heading back towards Lomedor. He was impressed, and anticipated the coming week with a child's eagerness.