Ok I hadn’t meant to make the man have two pieces, it just kind of happened that way. I’d arrived in Pattern expediently after catching wind that some hunters had been stationed there. And me, being me, decided it was as good a first mark as any. It would weaken the blues hold on the outer rim, while also making them have to promote some inexperienced bloke to captain. But Cantonains would be thrice damned if I too didn’t have that extraordinary sense of smell. He’d whirled around like his dead mother had screamed in his ear, having my surprised ass catch three pain promising pieces of lead right in the gut. And well unsurprisingly it really “fucking hurt!!”. Right after that I lost my temper and split the guy in two. “A disembodied head told me not to stumble and what's the first thing I did? Just that” I sighed. Promptly after getting my ducks in a row, I dogged a couple swords, and letting claws fall, I made them regret trying to avenge their dead captain. Not that they could regret it long anyway. But at the moment I was bathing in a puddle of my own fluids about five miles out, I’d just dug three balls of lead out of my slowly healing abdomen. “Almost as bad as Emmys training” I croaked. Days later, or at least what felt like it, I was finally up right and no longer in severe searing pain. And upon ambling out of the cave I’d held up in, I stretched, and was about to take to the tree’s when I smelled something. Something sour but not repulsive, something…. I knocked myself some sense at a nearby tree. “Gods I need to get my own strength under control” It left a shortly visible mark, causing me to curse the Gods. But I figured nothing ventured, nothing, gained and made my way toward the scent’s source. “Let's go find out what my nose likes so much” I mused to the tree. “Yup, I’m losing it”
When Ma’am had first told her and Clint to find tracks, Mercy didn’t expect to be four whole miles out from any form of safety for the next three and a half days. They’d camped in tree’s, avoided prowling backs of blood wolves, and after almost dying to some deer “thing” they resolved to face the captain's wrath for coming back empty handed. Something about her changed when she’d mentioned the ice and the wolf mask. She knew it was surprising, there weren’t many “touched” that managed that level of power and intellect, hell she hadn’t thought there were any. That being the reason she had at first withheld the information, and now she was wishing she still had. Ma’am was icy clear, and scary too, but they couldn’t stay out in this hell scape much longer, could they? “Mer!” Clinton pulled her out of her musing. “Hm? whaats wrong Clinty boy” she teased “Mer shut your stupid trap we’re being followed” he shot back. She was about to retort when his words registered. “Ah hell Clint if it has the smarts not to charge in like an idiot we might be done here” He gave her an annoyed glare at that. “Would you quit it? We have to focu…..” with snap clints leg shattered. “ AHHH LaKEs mErcy HeLP” he fell, screaming with what looked like tar covered ice jutting from his knee “Clint!” She was just about to dive for him when instinct shot her with adrenaline. Catching the edge of a sword with her longknife, the ranger was spun to the side with herculean force. A root caught her foot and she rolled. She was up in seconds but already had to fend off her attackers blade, their silver mask crested with dry blood. It lunged again and by some mercy she managed a deflect before a kick caught her now broken ribs. Stumbling to her feet she noticed with hope that her foe hadn’t pressed on, but that hope was damp. She sucked air like she’d never have it again and steadied herself. But surprisingly the figure kept their distance, pacing slowly, left then right as if goading her to try and help the still wailing Clinton. “Ah so that’s why” a statement half cooed half laughed escaped the figure. “He”, she now assumed, was adorned in a mantle of tattered and bloody military dress, its standard lake blue now more red than anything. She followed the silver glint of his mask to the fanged grin half exposed by the broken nature of the wolf. “You” she panted “what the hell is your game” he stopped his pacing. “I smelled something nice” she flinched at his predatory tone “but its kinda fucked, you know?” he continued “I don't really fancy myself for a cannibal” grimacing at that last statement. He sheathed his sword. “So it looks like I gotta find something else to eat” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “You’ll find a new career if you know what's good for you” he said, turning to leave “oh and try and stay away from the brass, they might find you out”. And after that vague statement he vanished into the forest “the fucks that supposed to mean”. Was all she could manage.
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