#halfblindignorance

          Isolde glanced up at the moon before looking back out over at Hemwick.  They were late.  Eileen had left her alone after the incident in Oedon Chapel, but also dropped Arianna off at a safe place where Isolde couldn’t find her, apparently.  Sure, it kept Isolde from falling to temptation, but what if the old crow got herself killed?  Then where would everyone be?

        The reinstated Hunter of Hunters sighed.  She’d changed back into her Cainhurst Knight attire so she could actually get into the castle, her Crowfeather gear tucked safely away in her knapsack.  The place looked even worse than the last time she’d been there.

        Another glance at the moon, then back at Hemwick.  Where the Hell were Aydan and Lael?

‘Beasts and madman eh?’ A small throaty chuckle escaped her lips her slight accent bleeding into her words. 'Oh my, there’s much more to bloody Yharnam then that, this littile city is tearing itself apart with it’s secrets, ironic no?’

There was a slight grin on her face it somehow reaching her eyes as she starred at the other Hunter in front of her. How odd to see someone from Cainhurst here of all places. No one come to Yharnman without a goal not even her. 'Oh, your bleeding a bit, best not to get the blood mixed together causes bad things to happen. ’

Yes. Of course. He’d witnessed the Church’s true face firsthand, so any other barbaric, inhumane activities happening behind the Yharnamites’ backs would not come as a surprise to him. “Secrets, eh? What manner of secrets are you referring to?”

Hunters hunted beasts. At least, that was originally what Klaus had assumed so many years ago when he first joined the Hunt, but he was quickly proven wrong. Many became addled and rotten with continued imbibing of Yharnam’s healing blood, and who better to put down their fellows than hunters themselves? And so, as it turned out, he was hardly surprised when he happened upon two hunters at each other’s throats.  Until now, he had been able to steer clear of such unsavory work, but tonight it seemed he would not be so lucky. Keeping an eye on the encounter from a safe distance, he occupied himself with discerning who was the hunter and who was the prey. Had he been a few years younger perhaps, he would have deemed such speculations distasteful, but in his line of work knowledge was power. All the better to know who to steer clear of entirely and who to give a wide berth. 

A giggile escaped her lips as her fingers enterwined with each other watching him curiously her voice with a slight accent obviously not from around here. ‘And your not? By the way you handled those lil beast’s I figured you would be, or prehapes used to be.’

Her voice was playful, teasing even but she starred at the blood dripping down the blade, at the human opposite of her before she spoke again this time her voice far more serious, 'your blood sounds odd~ where do you come from? ’

The music of his blood was strangely intoxicating an oddly plesent meledoy, much more plesent then most “normal” humans.

“You could say I am a hunter, then!” He bit his tongue to avoid giggling himself. Gods, what was wrong with him? For all he knew, he could be bleeding out - which was probably why he couldn’t detect the scent of Cainhurst in the girl’s blood - yet he was positively euphoric. Was it the atrocious beast blood pooling beneath his feet? No. What an absurd notion.

The strangeness of the hunter’s next statement went straight over his head, and he narrowly avoided blurting out an honest answer in response to her question. At least he seemed to be retaining a tidbit of common sense.

@halfblindignorance

“It would be nice if you could just,” growl, snarl. “Give me a moment, Miss.” The blood coming out of the dead hunter under him. He wasn’t much of a hunter if he was attacking his own kind. As Nate sat on the body of the much bigger male, Beast Claw stayed buried deep in the man’s head. Upon hearing someone draw close he drew his face mask up, unable to hide the blood around his mouth. He didn’t want them to think he was a beast but that wasn’t a wrong assumption. 

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There was a certain feeling to the day. The air was cool with enough of a warm breeze to make the night exceedingly comfortable. Nights like this we're rare and beautiful especially in the city of Yarhman.

It was an unfortunate thing Charity mused, that blood had to be spilled. Unfortunate but expected. It was dirty work but it had to be done, if for no other reason then to purify those who had to die. Her target was a newer hunter, one who barly made a name for himself who had went... feral. His body was cut the wounds themselves causing an unatrual amount of blood to trickle out. Her sword hummed in approval wanting... needing the blood.

She ignored it. Putting her blade away she gently closed the hunters eyes before after a few moments she let a match fall setting his body on fire as she whispered 'Rest easy now hunter. Your work is over.' it was a small thing to say that more then likely wouldn't matter to anyone else in the end.

It mattered to Charity. That was that.