#nytethekiller

Easton twitched slightly in surprise when the other’s arms closed around him, but he soon smiled. He leaned slightly into Nyte, placing his hand on one of his arms. He liked hugging people when he was sure he could call them a friend. And being in Nyte’s hold just felt like it… fit, somehow.

Easton blinked when there was no answer. Perhaps he was seeing things from the hunger and the cold. Maybe he was just going insane. His head spun as he picked up another bundle of sticks from his side, and threw them into his fire with a loud clatter. He had now spent last of his fuel. Nothing remained for him now than to wait for his fire to die and then for himself to do the same.

Meanwhile, Nyte happened to be nearby..

Red was taking a little hunting trip to snatch a few hares for dinner one night, planning on making a folk recipe stew she had come across earlier. She was heavily clothed, since winter was beginning to settle in with snow spots scattered amongst the forest floor, wearing a heavy jacket with fur in the hood's rim, a scarf wrapped over her mouth and nose, fingerless gloves, and worn out leather boots. She crouched low, her bow in hand and loaded as she scanned the area, listening intently for movement. There wasn't much activity going on in the woods, not very many animal calls, no birds chirping.. It was too quiet, and the eeriness gave her a bit of goosebumps. A loud rustle sounded out ten feet from her, making her perk up and stare in the changing direction of the noise, which was followed by a thud and wet, ripping noises. She cautiously approaches, squinting her eyes in the dark to see what was in the shrubbery.