ViioletVale

There was so much blood on her. It flooded out of the wound, shot clean through her shoulder, and it damped her trouser leg. The smell fired up the beast. The chemical concoction in his tank bubbled and boiled as Warwick fought with two conflicting impulses: On one side, he wanted nothing more than to tear her apart, slice her into the same bloody ribbons, he had turned these criminals into. For there was something about the way she held herself and the way her eyes sparked when she looked at those criminals that told Warwick she was just as much a killer as him.

Yet at the same time, there was something in him which made him hesitant to fall upon her and rip her apart. A feeling, which he could not quite place. Something warm and fuzzy, which, when thinking too hard, created nothing but foggy memories that may not be laced with pain but still felt so incomplete that thinking about them was just upsetting. The tension grew and grew until it reached its peak.

As Warwick lunged forward, he had not even been fully aware of what he had intended to do. Had he planned on ripping her to shreds after all? For a couple of seconds, that impulse had flashed hot through his limbs. However, the confusing puzzle of his missing memories had been too enticing to ignore. Thus, even though the great wolf beast grabbed harshly onto Pink Punch's shoulder, shredding through her jacket and pressing his claws onto her skin, he did his best not to further hurt her. It would be so easy to yank that same arm out of its socket. Yet Warwick refrained and instead forced himself to properly talk. Or at least, talk as much as his jaws allowed him to.

Dad... Pink Punch's eyes were glassy. She shielded her face with her arms as if she expected him to finally snap completely and strike her. Her whispered words were like little knives cutting straight into his heart. What could he not remember? Did he have a child? Violet? Why did that name sound so familiar? "Ooouuhhhh...." His mighty paw dropped off her shoulder, and Warwick crouched down, shielding his face with his paws.

He whimpered loudly as her name caused his head to throb. Another voice, younger, panicked and frightened, yelled in his head: "VI, COME BACK! PLEASE COME BACK! VIOLET, I NEED YOU! VIOLET!" That little girl. Sobbing with fire all around her. The only clear memory he had. She had been screaming this other girl's name. And Pink Punch, no Violet, had called him Dad. Was he a... father?

"Rrooooouuuwwwwhhhh!", Warwick howled in agony. What had he done? Why had he left them alone? No, no, it could not have been that simple, could it? That mad scientist had taken him, he knew that much. He knew he had been altered against his will. Staggering, Warwick finally dropped on all fours. Gasping, he lowered his paws and properly looked at Violet, who had backed away from him.

"I won't... hunt you...", he spoke, "I won't hurt... you. Even if... I don't... remember you."

Slowly her arms pleaded away from her face she shielded, as the wolf whimpered and whined. Her shoulder throbbed a little from the pierced skin where his claws gripped but she ignored it. "Dad?" Vi spoke, as she watched him back away, pressing against the wall and then he howled. Eyes widen in despair to see him in this kind of pain. Worse, was seeing the way he grabbed his face, hiding into a corner.

Vi's memory grasp at one she remembered from Stillwater, as she pressed her hands against her head. "My name is Violet, my sister is Powder, I…. I had a mother, her name is…. her name is…. no no no, I can't forget. Why does it hurt!" Violet remember sitting in the corner of the cell, pressing fingers firmly against her head to retain her memories as they slowly slipped from her.

Vi shifted forward, hissing at the pain of her thigh where the bullet went through but moved slowly toward the Wolf. "Hey… hey," Vi spoke up, her hands pressing against those massive paws. "Don't try to remember, it'll only hurt. Breathe, breathe through that big ol muzzle of yours," Vi chuckled as she started to take deep breaths.

Kids. Vayne gave a mirthless chuckle. "Things used to be a lot easier back then", she murmured to herself. Picking at her nails, she thoughtfully inspected her old childhood friend from the side. During the times her father had gotten sick or his condition worsened, they'd spent hours at the old manor in the woods. Shauna had killed the time waiting for her father's recovery by competing with Corvinna in archery contests. It had all been in good fun back then, nothing too serious. Though Vayne had always found the usage of nails peculiar, even back then.

Remembering how Niles kept stirring them away from the Wyldwoods back then, warning them to not train so precariously close, Shauna could not help but wonder: Had Locke known? Even back then? After all, her friend had been raised in the cradle of the occult. There was no way Corvinna had not known. Had she also known about Evelynn? Had she known that whatever condition Niles tried to pull out of her father would draw the demon to her? Had Niles ever succeeded in curing her father? Or had he sent them all home, still bleeding and leaving a trail for any demon to follow them? Had Evelynn caught that trail by chance? Or had the pain and agony specifically drawn her in like crows called wolves to carrion?

Locke's steely eyes pulled her out of her ruminations. Gritting her teeth, Vayne mused: "More than just a bit, don't you think?" It had been ten long years since she had last seen her friend. In those ten years, Shauna had gone through unspeakable trauma, torment and heartache, forcing her body beyond its physical limits. She still woke up with nightmares of her frostbitten feet and legs from trudging after Faye through knee-high snow.

She still remembered that shot. Faye, no, that MONSTER wearing her friend's face like some sick joke, pleading for her life, promising her that she had only learned these powers to defeat that wicked ice witch. Hypocrite, liar! How could Faye warn Shauna about not becoming a monster herself when she wore the pelt of a vicious wolf? Wolves had always been ill omens. Every child in Demacia knew that. Whatever reason Faye had claimed for her transformation was irrelevant. She had clearly lost her mind. Shauna had relieved her of that suffering. She should be thanking her!

She pulled a face. Shauna was always reluctant to entertain any opinion that was not her own, especially when it had to do with monsters and demons. After what Faye had done, Vayne truly believed that any opinion which did not align with her view that demons were irredeemable beasts of horror had to be treated as an attempt to persuade her from her one true path. She couldn't afford to entertain these lines of thinking. Otherwise, she would not be able to stand her own reflection in the mirror.

However, this was Locke she was talking to, and as much as Shauna hated it, her opinion was something she still held dear. Huffing, her shoulders dropped, and she rustled a hand through her black hair. "You are right", she spoke solemnly, "I never asked you what this cost you. I never knew how much pain your mother had caused you until recently." She fidgeted with her glasses. "The demon could feel your pain. It was... excited by it."

The next words were hard to sit with. Magic could never be a good thing. It had destroyed her parents. It had left her father weak and frail. It had left him sick with something that no Demacian doctor could cure. The idea that that very same magic could be used to take the very thing demons coveted so much - emotions - and deny it to them was ludicrous if Vayne had not seen it with her own eyes. Still, just because it helped did not make an exorcism a good thing. The only good demon was a dead demon.

She picked up the leather flask, filled to the brim with the old mulled wine they had found in Niles' cellar. Uncorking the bottle, letting the cork dangle by a string from the bottleneck, Shauna chugged a good mouthful of the spicy wine. Wiping her lips, she murmured: "I suppose in this instance, it delivered greater good while minimising harm. I still do not believe what you do is without its risks." She offered Locke the flask so she could drink too. "You smell of ash and decay while being alive. Like a corpse that has not burned out. It feels wrong."

The mere idea of having control over a demon clawing its way through your guts was crazy. Shauna wasn't even sure where exactly the demon was nowadays. Sure, it was inside her, but she had no idea what that actually meant. Either way, it was just as upsetting. Vayne hated the fact that this nameless creature refused to go away. Even with Locke having done all she could to break the possession, it seemed like the tether would never completely sever.

Right as Shauna worked herself up, questioning whether or not she had failed Niles' teaching - a part of her, the stupidest goddamn part of her, still tried to ban how a lot of the details of monster hunting she knew nowadays had not come from Niles, but Faye -, Locke reached for her hand. She gingerly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand down. Her friend's soft words reached her ears, together with a gentle hand placing itself against her cheek and making their eyes meet. Locke did not see her possession as a failure at all! If anything, she called Shauna more alive than ever.

"I had not even thought about it that way..." Shauna admitted, ashamed. She drew in a shocked gasp. "Wait...", she whispered, "You dedicated your hunts to me because... you thought ... I was dead?" She looked at Corvinna with genuine shock and pity on her face. "Vinna, what happened to you in those ten years?"

Locke chuckled right back to Vayne and nodded. "Ah, yes. Chasing each other with wooden swords and acting as demons. I give anything to go back to that," Even if she wasn't respected for who she was and how she was treated; at least she had a life where Shauna smiled happily and did not see the world so twisted through the lenses of grief and rage. A soft breath left her lips, trying to remain calm in all this. Vayne's feelings were genuine and real. Locke would not discredit them; but she also wanted to try and ease her into seeing the world through different lenses. Less red and more mixed.

"Naay," Locke teased but nodded in agree. Though in true, Locke didn't know where to start; if there was anywhere to start. Most of her life she had been wandering, working, and remembering. Did she even have a purpose? At the point and time before learning of Shauna's "resurrection" from a death Locke had believed, she didn't have one. Only to do a job that Shauna was meant to do. "Hmmmm," Locke hummed thoughtfully still watching the Wolves shifted and move. Even with Shauna's reactive emotions, the wolves seem to react to it. Playful, to fighting each other; yet never parting.

The cawing of ravens made the exorcist look over with a tender smile; a watchful eye never far away before turning back to Shauna. "Its okay," Locke comforted Vayne, as her hand reached over. "You couldn't have known. I wasn't exactly… upfront about it, and she didn't like me talking about it. I tried to be a good son, but; it was never enough. Now, I do what I can just to piss her off," A chuckle left her lips, but there lingered the pain. Her hand moved away, glancing down at her hand. "Its there, it bubbles… it never goes away," And she knew she needed to deal with it before she let it consume her; just as it was consuming Shauna.

But for now Locke put Shauna first and foremost.

"Oh, no, your right," Locke said as she turned and nodded. "This, this is no gift. Its not perfect. It might cloak the maximum effects when I absorb these emotions. But it causes me problems, and…" Locke hesitated, not sure how to explain this information to Shauna as Locke did not want to look like a demon.

The Black wolf started to cower in the water, the tail shifted between her legs, lowering her head at the mercy of the white one.

"I lose focus, I can't think, sometimes I can't breath. Fatigued, exhausted. The more emotions I absorb, the heavier it is. Don't expect me to be good in a fight, I can fight but…. not as effectively. I learned to absorb up to 5 counts of emotions before its too much," At this point, Locke stayed a little quiet. "The smell of ash and decay comes from the spirit realm. I am, bound to it. When I sleep, I visit the realm, among the demons and spirits within that realm. Releasing that energy back. Nothing can just disappear, even demons that are killed, don't just vanish. They return to that space, to form something new,"

A deep settling breath ran through Locke's lips as she let herself fall backwards and just stared up at the sky. Her eyes didn't look away from the brilliant gleaming moon that was slowly covered by dimming clouds as Locke revealed some of her unusual abilities.

Nothing else was said, no doubt knowing it probably unsettled Shauna more. She open up about it more, but Locke wasn't here to make her life worse. "Just know, Sparkles; I'm always on your side, no matter what,"

She hadn't expected Shauna to actually ask her and Locke froze for a moment. "Ha! Don't act so surprise!" Corvinna joked as she bounced back and and nudged her. "come on, I shouldn't be the one alive, I can barely throw a nail," The mask of amusement tethered over her face before she went quiet and lowered her face. Her feet pulled from the water, crossing them together and settling her hands into her lip. Her fingers fidgeted with the edges of her pants. "I told them to go back for you," Locke's voice sounded more like the child she was so long ago. "Niles, the occult…. no one would help. I was going to go, but my mother wouldn't let me. Shoved me into the cart, and told me to stay. And well," Locke laughed and gave a shrug.

"You know," She sneered playfully, grinning with a bright smile so fake it burned her cheeks. "I could never say no to anyone. Nay, No never existed in my books. I… I just…" Slowly, Corvinna's smile faded again and she turned her head away. "I didn't know what to do. Kept… beating me, said, the tool was destroyed cause of me. I mean, I'm a stupid kid, always causing trouble," She lifted her hand up and pointed at her head as if she had this big marker at the top of her head.

"I just… had nothing to live for. So, I hunted for you. Tried to do my best for you, cause you were the better of us, you know?" Locke admitted and looked over to her. "Fought better, moved better, you were the best! Honestly, I'm surprised your demon friend didn't kill me with the skills he learned in that head of yours. It was a hard fight, I barely made it," Locke winked before lowered her head again. As if trying to keep up this suave happy nature she didn't have right now.

"I visit your house every year, with this locket," Locke pulled it out and opened it up. "On your birthday, every year, and tell you everything I've done. I was coming to give this to you, when…. everything went to hell. I never got to give it to you, so I carried it with me. A reminder, to never fail you again,"

She dusted off her pants, bounced up and clapped her hands together. "But hey! Its fine, look, your here, I'm here. Breathing, and look at our wolves!" Locke laughed and pointed at the water as she completely diverted from the heartache she expressed. The two wolves reflected in the water. The white one listening, while the black one bounced around, and yet…. her tail stayed between her legs and those ears lowered against her skull in subordinate fear. "Bah, ignore the wolves, they were never liked in Demacia anyway,"

Locked walked away, and leaned up against the tree. "Get some sleep Shauna. I'm not tired, and you've had a long day. I'm fine,"

Subtle NSFW||Accepting.

The breeze in the night air tussled at Caitlyn's hair. Her gloved hands cupped the rim of the balcony as she stood there, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Her Zaunite clothing - the outfit she tended to wear when she was undercover - was caked in blood and mud, with the occasional tear. This had been a long and tough turf war. Caitlyn had not been in the safety of her home for at least a month. But her diligence had paid off: Thanks to the input of her own gang, the Wardens had been able to bust a major smuggling ring in the lower parts of the Promenade. Captain Holly was still handling the mass arrests.

Caitlyn had excused herself as soon as her work had been done. Now, standing on the balcony, her adrenaline finally waned, and with it, the strain of this last month hit her all at once. Her thighs burned from having walked so much. Her head pounded from having to keep up a false persona. Somewhere under her layers of clothing, a nasty claw mark burned in her side. She stank. Caitlyn pulled a face. By the Spirits, I need a shower.

Huffing, Caitlyn was about to turn around when the feeling of a warm body pressing tightly against hers in a crude embrace caused her to briefly wince. The strong smell of tiger, wolf and Zaunite enveloped her senses. So familiar. She shuddered and closed her eyes, smiling widely to herself. How strange. I have grown so accustomed to the company of Zaunites, even their smell is capable of putting me at ease. Though, of course, there was only one who could be this calming and reassuring.

"I missed you too, Vi", Caitlyn finally spoke before she gritted her teeth. "Ugh... Careful. During the arrests of that smuggling ring, one of these brutes got me with his claws." Vi backed off for a brief moment. She then reached forward, ever so tenderly, and unzipped Caitlyn's jacket. The young Sheriff could not help but chuckle as Vi gingerly slipped her fingers underneath her fabric and carefully peeled off the jacket.

Vi folded up her jacket and positioned it on a chair near the balcony door. The night air touched Caitlyn's arms and bare shoulders, prompting her to shudder. The pale viola corset she wore with its white, shoulder-less sleeves had tears in the side. Blood crusted in the cotton fabric. Caitlyn's blue eyes widened as she noticed just how ugly that scratch had ended up being. She took a step back and sat down on her jacket.

"I had intended to take a shower, Vi", Caitlyn murmured more to herself before she looked up at her girlfriend, "Though it looks like I could use a bit of help getting the corset off me." She flexed her fingers into her thighs, trying to steady her breathing. "Could you do me the honours, Tigris?"

However, when she smelled Caitlyn, Vi launched herself over the back of the couch and ran upwards. She dropped what she had gone out to buy, leaving it on the floor and scampered up the stairs to the balcony. She didn't think, instead she wrapped her arms around Caitlyn and hugged her; accidentally a little too tightly. "Oh, sorry Cupcake," Vi instantly released her hold, brushing her hands carefully over her shoulders. She could smell residual blood, chemicals against her clothing, and the dirt and musk of the undercity all over her. A few more sniffs, and she could tell Holly had been around her as well. "Oh shit! Well, we need to get you a shower and take care of the wound," Vi added.

With careful attention, Vi tugged off the jacket first, no longer wild but precise and calm. Her eyes started to scan over the blouse and found the source of the blood. "There it is," Vi spoke, lifting up the sleeves to see the gashes against her arm. "You took it like a champ, as always cupcake," The tiger praised with a smile.

The request came and Vi nodded. "Of course, let's get you to the shower room first and then I'll help you fully undress," Vi spoke, moving her hands behind Caitlyn's back and ducked down to scoop up her legs in her arms. Caitlyn could walk, but Vi saw no reason not to help her release a little. The simple way she rubbed her thighs told Vi she had achy muscles; probably landed on her knees a few times as well. "I'm sure your probably hungry as well, so how about I get you settled in in comfortable, and help ya out,"

Words came as a promise as she pressed the shower room door open with her shoulder and set Caitlyn down on one of the benches. She moved to one of the closets, gathering up a couple of towels and some of her shampoo and conditioner along with body wash. She grabbed one of the chairs as well, setting it down underneath the shower and placing the bottles on the ground too. "Alright, darling, let's get you out of these dirty clothes," Vi crouched down, working to unbutton her corset, carefully moving each string and button until she had it off and folded it up as well. Her fingers slipped down, undoing her boots next, sliding them off of her legs and to the side. Each movement Vi kept her touch gently and soothing as she could see developing bruises and aches from her work.

Next came the pants, as Violet undid the belt, helping Caitlyn sit up just a little to tug them down, along with any undergarments. And lastly, she tugged the shirt up, dropping it to the side. "I'll fix any patches. I know you have a seamstress, but I got a few talents I can use," Vi chuckled. Her hand reached up, rubbing her thigh carefully.

"Careful now", Shyvana snarled and planted a clawed foot onto Vi's shin. Leaning forward, she pressed her talons deep into the fabric of the other woman's trousers. "Lest I change my mind."

The plating on her throat vibrated from her raspy breathing. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, revealing sharp, hooked teeth. Fiery eyes peered at Vi, trying to discern if she would falter under the threat. However, not only did the girl hold steadfast, but she even deduced why Shyvana could not have been the killer. That woman was smart. Shyvana, indeed, did not have the hands to wield bow and arrow. Her claws would have snapped any string.

"Haaaarrrhhhhh."

Shyvana exhaled a gust of smouldering, steaming breath before she stepped back and relinquished her hold on the woman's leg. While the she-dragon tried to see if she could scare the assassin into floundering and showing themselves, the other woman revealed what they knew to be true: The would-be assassin had long fled the scene. Not only because Shyvana had appeared, but because they had lost the element of surprise. Their shot had not killed the other woman, and attempting to fire again would be fruitless.

As the stranger began to limp in the direction of Wrenwall, Shyvana began to walk by their side. Upper body slightly tilted forward, tail mostly stiff to keep her balance, her fiery eyes flashed in surprise as this woman, this Vi, revealed that she was mated to the Kiramman girl, this Caitlyn. Justus had mentioned Caitlyn before, referring to her as his niece. He had spoken of how large House Kiramman was. Though, as far as Shyvana understood, Justus was the only member of the house in Demacia. She could not blame him: Being a vampire in a location which despised magic must be tough.

"Yes", Shyvana answered Caitlyn's question, inspecting her with intrigue. "I know Justus. He is a member of the Dragon Guard, a respectable and devoted soldier and a very dear and close friend. He dotes on Caitlyn. If you have gained the favour of his niece, then you must be a friend too."

They had to stop after a couple of steps. Vi leaned against the bark of a tree. She clutched her wounded shoulder. Blood soaked her fabric. The fresh smell caused the fire in Shyvana's eyes to dance, yet she did her hardest to resist the flames blooming in her chest. At the request, Shyvana spoke in warning: "Be aware, my flames are a lot hotter than anything even magic can conjure. This will hurt."

Bright orange flames licked across her purple scales as Shyvana pulled her arm half back and twisted her wrist like someone conjuring a spell. With a hand engulfed by dragon fire, she swiftly pressed her palm against the wound on Vi's shoulder. The flesh sizzled. The girl's body spasmed. Shyvana grunted at the woman's reaction to her pain. Dropping her hand, the flames vanished as fast as they had been conjured up.

"Can you walk?"

Every step lingered, but the blood loss made it harder to focus. Just a little longer, Violet, you've bee nthrough worse. She coached herself as she pressed her hand to her wound by her palm looked blood as if riling through a dead corpse. Perhaps in front of CAitlyn, she let her guard down, show the pain and accept pain killers; but she didn't know Shyvana and she could not appear weak. Weakness brought death, hesitation hastened the grave. "Haha," Vi chuckled at the amusement of Caitlyn's uncling dotting on her. Everyone loved that girl, it seemed, in the family.

Vi's vision turned to look at Shyvana. "Yeah, well… Guess I'm shit out of luck then," Vi grumbled as she pulled down her jacket and unbutton the top part of her shirt to revealing the gapping wound, still bleeding steadily.

"AHHHHHH," Vi screamed, like the roar of a tiger and scream of a fox. It echoed through the forest and birds fluttered out of the trees, cawing and cackling out of shock and flying away. The pain ripped through her body, electricity coursing through every inch of her. Despite any attempt, Vi couldn't stop from shaking and collapsing down to the ground. The shock coursed her body as she collided with the cool grass. Words blurred together as Vi looked up at Shyvana. "ye….yeah," Vi muttered as she pushed herself up, and then everything lost color.

There was no concept of time or movement. Her hand pressed to her forehead with a groan and slowly pushed herself up. Warm cloth brushed against her palm which made no sense as grass shouldn't feel that way. Even the feel of leather no longer covered her arms but a cool breeze brushed against her flesh. "Fuck, that was worse then drinking five bottles of whiskey plain," Vi muttered as she brushed her hand against the wound. Indeed, it was completely sealed, with skin stitched together from being melted thanks to the fire.

Her boots tapped on the ground as Jinx leapt off the balcony. Rising to her full height, the young Zaunite twirled Zapper around before holding the pistol in a raised position. Her flesh and metal fingers looped around the trigger, ready to fire it again. Her purple eyes darted between her sister and the carcass. Blood smeared around Vi's mouth. Tendrils of drool and meat dangled between her fangs. Jinx sneered in bemusement and pity as she walked closer.

"You know what I noticed?", Jinx taunted back, "Something very strange happens to a Vastaya, which consumes human meat. If you do not eat it regularly or wait until your hunger pangs are too strong, you make a bloody mess out of yourself. It is like the flavour of live prey heightens and sharpens your instincts, except if you are not used to the flavour, your body overcorrects. You become frantic, feral, half-intoxicated by the flavour."

"I was always puzzled by how you do not eat it as regularly as I do", Jinx stated as she continued to further advance. Every step was slow and calculated as she gauged the distance. Jinx would not just have to get around Vi, she would have to do so fast enough to rip off a seizable chunk of muscle flesh. Luckily, Vi had already torn the man's shoulder open. So going for that flesh would be the best angle.

"After all, you were always so keen on killing", Jinx mused, "It's how I got into the habit of killing too. Little Pow-Pow wanted to be just as bloodsoaked as her big, scary sister. Yet something I never understood was how you just left your kills there. All those carcasses had so much meat on them. You could have easily filled your stomach or even brought some home for me. Yet you'd always snap necks or tear throats and then had to be carried back home by Vander while blood drizzled down your fingers and maw. What wasteful kills."

"Look, just lemme grab a few chunks, and I'll be out of your hair", she demanded. Unlike you, some of us have more than one mouth to feed. Janna, Jinx had forgotten how much energy a growing body needed. Isha was absolutely ravenous. The little girl would stuff her face with the red muscle meat Jinx brought home, trying to tear off more manageable chunks. Seeing her stuff herself like this for the first time had prompted Jinx to chuckle. Janna, it had been like looking at herself. After that, any thought of potentially eating Isha herself had become unthinkable.

Except then Vi said something, Jinx had not expected to hear. Her sister's words blurred into the static, which suddenly felt like it was blocking her hearing. Warm golden lines surrounded her in the shape of those heavy gauntlets that Vi had swung at her in the Janna temple. They planted themselves onto her shoulders with the weight of two bricks. Heat seared through Jinx's skin, and the scent of burning flesh filled her nose.

Vi's words were a gargled whisper: "Poor, little Jinx can't hunt her own food. Needs her big, strong sister to do it again..."

"Because she... couldn't.... jinxes.... do it... every job... before."

Her words became an unintelligible mess. Two voices spoke at once, overlapping and heightening the static even more. Nettles shoved themselves deep into their throat. Behind her, Mylo rose out of the dark like he was clawing himself out of his own grave. His dead eyes were overshadowed by white lines, concealing them, yet those lips were bared in an ugly, smug grin. Since when did her brother have fangs? Or were those just more lines?

Her tail bristled at its root before it fluffed up further and further, growing rigid in the process. Jinx absentmindedly flexed her fingers. Zapper bounced against her neck, almost as if, just like her, he could not make up his mind where his aim should be. How dare you speak to me like that! How dare you pretend I do not know how to hunt! Her purple eyes glowed as they locked onto Violet, taking in how her sister stood half over the carcass. She had slammed her claws against the rib cage, flattening it in parts. She was going to ruin the meat! Stupid big sister! Did no one teach you how to harvest a corpse properly?

Vi's stance was not as stable as she believed. Her sister's entire weight was on the front, supported by the hand resting on the dead body. Jinx darted forward, using a burst of Shimmer for a quick misdirection before, with a sharp, beastial snarl, she kicked Vi's arm sideways, hitting the wrist sharp enough to bruise. Her sister roared in fury, pulled her hand back and stepped backwards. She looked like she was ready to counter with a swing; however, Jinx immediately pointed Zapper straight at her face. Tapping her finger against the back of the gun, it let out a threatening spark and blue lightning licked across the pistol's tip.

"Whatever you think about doing, don't", Jinx warned coldly, "I'll fire faster than you can swing, big, scary sister."

Jinx wandered over to the body and crouched down. Sinking her claws into the already broken-open shoulder, she shredded through the muscle, pulling out red chunks and strings, stuffing the pockets of her utility belt with the still-warm meat. The more she kept filling her pockets, the easier her body posture got. Eventually, Jinx carefully lowered Zapper and stashed the gun away. Now, she had both hands free and could properly get enough meat for Isha and herself. Even with her theft, Vi would still have more than enough to eat.

And Stillwater Vi had to learn to survive on ehr own. "Fuck. You. You know nothing!" Her claws dug into the skin, and a love verberating growl linger in her throat. Vi lingered over the dead body, cautious and watching Jinx's slow deliberate movements.

The reminders of her kills made Vi internally cringe. She knew?? HOW DID SHE KNOW? Vi didn't remember everything, but she remembered how she would kill now and again, only to feel this aching revoltion in her chest. Vander had taught her to respect life even though she never fully understood why. A body was packed with meat and nutrience, if she had to kill why not feed? And didn't being this killer mean she needed it. So much conflicting thoughts that carried into her adulthood. In stillwater, she ignored those trainings; she had to survive.

But it never stopped echoing in her mind to be calm, to respect the life around. That had faded away, she didn't care anymore now. Or so she tried to tell herself. So she killed who she thought deserved it, being a killer of killers, or at least trying to respect what she did. Even now, she defended her kill because it was hers, but she knew this guy was a brute who didn't care about others. He enjoyed hurting people just as she did; so she took matters into her own hands.

"Why?! Why can't you just go get your own damn food?" Vi argued annoyed. Why did she continued to stalk her, annoy her, make her life a living hell?" Vi's feet shifted, pressing her hand harder down on her kill as she lowered her head, her eyes darkening. The way her tail stiffened and that weapon tapped on her neck. Vi's only tail started to fizz, stiff as a board as she took several deep breathes.

Then it all happened in a blur. Just as when Jinx attacked Caitlyn at the tea party, she moved with such speed that Vi couldn't move in time. Her shoulder twisted and Vi cried out in pain, the old wound aching as she fell sideways against the ground and stumbled backwards. Her good arm grabbed her bicep, squeezing it to her side and then her head shot backwards as that weapon pointed at her. Vi froze, remembering the electric pricks coursing through her veins, how Jinx and Isha took turns zapping her defenselessly.

"Brat," Vi muttered as she took a step backwards, squeezing her shoulder and rolling it several times. "Seriously, why don't you just hunt on your own. Leave me the fuck alone! We aren't sisters, we aren't even family anymore! YOU DON'T WANT ME AND YOU MADE THAT VERY CLEAR!" Vi screamed at her, taking a step forward but quickly stopped and started pacing side to side.

Hunts made the passage of time feel strangely fluid. Shauna had been so focused in her pursuit of taking down not just Evelynn, but any of those wretched, vile demons she stumbled across that sometimes, it felt like she practically lived in the Wyldwoods. She certainly had not slept a lot in the last couple of days?, weeks?, yet somehow, Shauna felt strangely unaffected by it all. It was like something in her did not need sleep and merely urged her body forward to keep going. She could get a well-deserved rest once she had cleansed the Wyldwood of its corruption. Never mind that if Shauna had a clear head, she would have realised that this was an exercise in futility.

However, hunting this excessively also meant that Vayne did not feel the urge or desire to return to settlements very often. Niles had ensured that Locke and her knew how to fend for themselves, even if the only places of safety they could rely on were taverns or hunter cabins scattered throughout Demacia's outskirts. Even for her vast estate, Shauna had hired a professional accountant to handle her wealth while she was not present. The man had been sworn to secrecy, understanding that his mistress's business in these woods was hers alone.

The only times Shauna Vayne felt inclined to visit the Great City or other larger settlements were when she either had business in these places or because someone from a noble house demanded her presence in a way that she could not relegate to her accountant. Usually, even her business had to do with her pursuits of hunting that wretched she-demon who had her parents' blood on her conscience. Which was how she ended up in a bar in Wrenwall. She was waiting for a travelling salesman there, whom she had requested a new set of silver bolts and arrows from. Her supply had been dwindling for the last couple of months. Time to restock it.

The warmth of a bar always felt welcoming yet oddly disturbing. Of course, Vayne did not object to a warm meal in her belly and the chance to sleep in a proper bed, if she could bring her body to rest, which happened less and less often. However, seeing all those happy, contentedly sighing faces full of bliss irked her. Most Demacians chose to believe a comfortable lie: That demons or monsters could never breach their town walls because they had the petricide to protect them from any harm. It had been this same cheerful denial which had almost broken Vayne and made her doubt herself when the guards and anybody else she might have turned to after her parents' murder claimed that her description of a horned, purple, smiling woman was a symptom of shock and trauma rather than an actual culprit.

Ignoring the patrons in the bar, Vayne made her way over to a stool at the counter. Plopping down upon it, she tapped her hand on the wood and ordered a simple jug of beer. Placing the pale blue pitcher in front of her, the coins switched hands. Vayne did not even bother looking at the bartender. She took a long sip of the beer. It was a dark colour, rich and strong in flavour, with the foam leaving a white beard upon her upper lip. Vayne gasped at the richness of the drink and placed the pitcher back down. Groaning, she massaged her temple and shut her eyes. Her head pounded, and restlessness needled at her legs. Hopefully, her contact would show up soon.

A blur of dark magenta hair made Vayne turn her head. There, only a few feet away, sat a muscular girl with strongly tattooed arms and back and a wild, messy bundle of deep magenta hair. Her clothes showed stains from chemicals and paint. Her pants and shirt felt mismatched, like they had come from different places. Even one of her boots looked like it was held together by duct tape and bandages. A thick, long fox-like tail curled around her calves.

"Did we meet before?" Vayne could not help but ask in puzzlement, "Wait! I remember you! You were with that beast of a dragon when Fiddlesticks attacked you two! What are you doing back in Wrenwall?"

@viioletvale liked for a starter.

However, after the last few weeks, she had finally started talking again. The first week she had been completely silent; the monstrosities in Demacia's forest were nothing compared to the monster's of Zaun. She would rather face chemically changed rats and crazed cultist spider man clunk then whatever laid in those words. It left her temporarily mute out of the trauma she experience, and re-experienced.

Fingers lightly traced over the wood of the bar counter. A rusty type of comfort, making her feel like she had fallen back in time. Lanterns and candles gave a dim light to the bar, and the bartender passed out both alcoholic drinks, juices, and food. Vi had gotten herself a glass of whisky, a classic for herself, and some fries to much on. Demacia certainly had a lot of meat and potatoes that's for sure.

Vi sat in a comfortable black tank top, showing a bit of her mid-drift and pants that had some stains and strips. Her boot kicked her seat in a perfectly timed rhythm as she took a sip of her drink. Her tail swished back and forth slowly behind her as she sat on the stool.

The voice made her raise a brow. "Look, lady, I'm…. oh…" Vi paused in her words, seeing the woman and remembered her from the fight before. A shiver ran down her back at the mention of Fiddlesticks and her tail bristled from memories she wanted to forget. "Yeah, that was me! And her name isn't beast, its Shyvana, and she's a she, not a that," Vi bluntly commented and lifted her glass to sip a bit more of the sharp alcohol.

"I'm here with my girlfriend, she's visiting with family," Vi commented. It wasn't a lie, it was the truth as Caitlyn was with Justus. However, she wasn't going to tell her the whole story. Something about her made Vi on edge but she didn't know what just yet.

"I doubt we can help being obvious."

Shyvana gave a good-humoured chuckle as she flicked her scaly tail forward and used the sharp, jagged tip to point at the large, thick, busy fox tail, which burst out of Vi's behind like water out of a busted pipe. She indicated the tiger's ears next as she continued: "I have heard of people like you. Vastaya, right? Your kind traces its origins back to Ionia? Though I doubt I have ever seen a mixed species before." She rubbed her chin with a clawed hand and leaned forward, orange eyes glimmering with interest. "It's fascinating."

Another chuckle as they began to head through the streets of Wrenwall, making their way towards the gate. "Forgive my forwardness", the she-dragon mused, "Diplomacy has never been my strongest suit. I just have never seen another so clearly magical creature before. It is exciting. Though you oughta be careful. I do not know if they would have even let you into Wrenwall if you did not have that Kiramman girl vouching for you."

Shyvana gave another rumbling sound of approval at Violet's flirting. She understood that this was what it was, though it hardly stirred her heart. Jarvan had once tried to flirt with her when they had been alone, and Shyvana had more humoured him to save him from embarrassment than because she actually found this flirting arousing.

She was fairly certain that her draconic clock just operated differently, and thus, she was not as receptive to human flirtations. At least, Hagen had taken the time to teach her some of humanity's weird quirks. Including their habit to flirt. Flirting is man's courtship. That was how her father had explained it to Shyvana when she had come home with a smushed rose and sent a boy crying to his mama because the pretty girl did not love him.

The she-dragon grew excited when Violet asked her what prey lingered in the woods outside of Wrenwall. The sleek plating along her neck opened up and quivered a touch. It was this same plating which guided her fire breath and allowed her to speak whenever she was in her dragon form, though according to Anden Mayne, she was the first ever elemental dragon whom he had seen further manipulating her throat muscles and plating like this.

Shyvana replied: "Well, you are correct. We have rabbits and deer in these woods. If you smelled deer, then maybe you also caught a whiff of the Greathorns, which guard these herds. They are large stags with impressive antlers. Though if you want more of a challenge, you could go after one of the predators, such as Badgerbears, Fleetfeathers or Tuskvores. Maybe you could even come across a Crag Beast, though most soldiers would rather not face those creatures alone. If we merely seek to hunt, I suggest we stick with the Greathorn herds and maybe something like a wolf or a Badgerbear."

The she-dragon was not blind to the continuous, mistrustful stares of Wrenwall's citizens. Looking back at Vi, Shyvana's face fell briefly before she forced a mask of neutrality and explained: "You'll have to forgive them. Demacia was founded at the height of the Rune Wars. The ancestors of those people had to find footing in a land filled with dangerous creatures, haunted by barbarian attacks and hostile mages. Even nowadays, dragons still pose a serious threat to the towns." She fidgeted with her claws, her tail tip flicking irregularly. "Wrenwall, in particular, survived a very gruesome attack by an elder dragon. That was not that long ago."

Reaching the gate of Wrenwall, Shyvana and Vi were greeted by two Demacian soldiers standing guard. Their dark blue capes swayed in the wind, and the sunlight reflected on their silver armours. They were idly shifting their spears around, but as soon as Shyvana and Vi approached, the guards immediately straightened their positions and saluted Shyvana. On the outside of Wrenwall's wall was a wooden sign, into which the following letters were carved: TORÖFFNUNG: 7 1/2 UHR, TORSPERRUNG: 6 UHR.

Shyvana gazed up into the sky, trying to gauge how many hours of daylight they had left. She told Vi: "We will have to be in Wrenwall before the sun sets. Otherwise, they are not going to let us back in until the sun rises again. Judging by where the sun is right now, I think we've got about four hours for our hunt."

Vi's tail flicked back and forth, as she gave a small shrug. "The rest of me looks human enough," Vi mentioned, as she poked her ears then her nose, and afterward her biceps. A nod came from her head. "Yeah, Vastayan. Humanoid but with animal traits; some more then others. I just happen to get a tail and tails it, oh, and the fangs and claws to match," Vi said, as she opened up her hand and flexed her fingers. Her nails were sharpened to a point, never flat like a normal human nail. Shyvana's interest made Vi's eyes brighten a little more, enjoying the attention of her interest more then she realized.

"Speak for the both of us, I am not a diplomatic person. I punch first and ask questions later," Vi laughed before giving a small shrug. "Yeah, she's the only reason I'm actually here. Otherwise, I would have stayed at home," It wasn't likely for Vi to travel; in truth she had never been interested in that. Powder was always the one talking about taking flying ships and traveling around. Vi was more then content to stay home where she was familiar with the layout and knew what to expect.

Wide eyes stared at Shyvana at the name of so many beast but none of them sounded familiar. she could take a guess at what Greathorns were, as she mentioned dear with them. However, the others she could only gander at what they might look like. "I'm… very unfamiliar with your animal chains, so I will go with whatever you suggest. Though, I do not hunt with weapons," Vi expressed as she continue to walk with the she-dragon toward the gate.

"Hmmm… Not a single Demacian would survive in Piltover, much less Zaun. There's magic everywhere and we hunt all the time," Vi said, as she tucked her hands into her pockets. At the gate, Vi looked over the guards as they saluted. It was like walking with Caitlyn all over again; for the most part she was ignored, but the one next to her had attention and respect. Stepping out, her eyes gazed up at the massive carvings, unfamiliar with the language or what it meant.

This wasn't too unfamiliar, Vi vaguely remembered having lock downs in Zaun during the sickly months. Most of the time, Vander would keep them indoors, and she remembered Felicia strictly forbidding Vi from leaving the house. "Sounds good, though you guys are very…. by the rulebook," Vi didn't think she like living here one bit.

Why was she even pointing the crossbow at Locke? Vayne could not even say. It had just happened like an age-old impulse her body forgot to bury. A soft chuff escaped her lips as Locke teased her with that nickname she had used since they had been little children. Sparkles. It had always felt like a bit of an oxymoron, as there had never been anything bright about Shauna in terms of personality. It certainly did not fit nowadays. And yet Vayne could not help but appreciate it when it was being used.

"We have not been together for a long time."

Bitterness swung in Vayne's voice. If Locke looked at her through her special glasses, she no doubt would see the cyan flare of her rage and grief. Where were you when I needed you the most? After that demon had killed her parents, Shauna's first reaction had been to try to contact Locke's family, yet her message had never reached them. Even when she had dragged herself to Niles' manor, it had been empty. Where were they? How was she supposed to catch the demon if nobody helped her? Shauna remembered how the fear and grief had strangulated her throat, and with it the determination that she would never be afraid again. She had found a mentor in Frey, only to be betrayed yet again.

Monsters are everywhere. "You cannot trust anybody! You have to do everything yourself!"

"That scheming filth... I never should have trusted him."

With that realisation firm in her gut, Vayne had made the difficult but necessary decision of giving up on Locke or even hoping for a reunion.

At the same time, Locke was right, as much as Vayne hated to admit it. They were stronger together. They were already formidable hunters in their own right. Shauna had soon been able to overtake Corvinna in skill, even though she had started training later. However, as soon as they actually used their abilities in tandem with one another, few monsters stood a chance of defeating them. Maybe with Locke's help, Shauna would finally be able to put an end to Evelynn's atrocities.

Vayne curled her lips in disgust as she cast a baleful side eye at Locke. "That's an easy statement to make when it feels like it has cost you nothing!", she snapped, "I'll give you that much: Magic is everywhere, and in most cases, it serves as a warning. But dark magic is nothing but evil. It rots the soul and carries death in every step it makes. It destroyed my parents. It wounded you. How can you be so calm about it all?"

Her shoulders dropped, and she huffed. The idea of staying awake, yet alert, was something she might be willing to make peace with. As long as they made sure that none of the demons or monsters got the drop on them, Vayne might be willing to accept the need for sleep. After all, the last time she had slept this deeply had been in Niles' manor. As much as she resented him for keeping her in the dark, Shauna had to admit that Niles, outside of Frey, was probably the most well-versed monster hunter she had ever met.

The moment she sat down, Locke leaned over and hugged her with one arm, pressing her lips upon her temple. The gesture was stormy, yet affectionate. Before Vayne had time to bulk or squirm under it, Corvinna already let go of her. She had never been all that fond of physical affection, though the death of her parents had undoubtedly made things worse. Feelings of affection, love and compassion were barbed through by the spikes of trauma, only pricked harder with Frey's betrayal. Better to not let these emotions take root in the first place.

But then why did she not shove him off? Why did she smile ever so briefly?

Heavy quiet crept into the night. Outside of the caws of a raven in the branches of a tree, the soft gurgleing of the pond and the rustle of rabbits in the underbrush, there were no other signs of life in the valley. Vayne pulled one of her knees close to her body. She flung her arm over it, keeping her dark eyes trained on Locke. While Corvinna's glasses allowed her to see the swirl of emotions and colours, Vayne's red glasses drenched the world in silver and exposed what lay hidden in the night.

"I am not sure", Vayne admitted, trying to listen inward, "I feel... fine, but I would not trust my own statement. Back when that monster called the shots, I could not feel any hunger, thirst or exhaustion. I had not even been aware that I had stayed awake for days, if not weeks, on end. All that existed was the drive to hunt. There was always one more demon lurking in the dark, waiting to be shot. There was always one final target."

She scratched her neck and continued: "I don't feel exhausted or drained right now. I also do not feel like my wrath and bloodthirst are currently my sole motivating drive. So, I reckon that is a good thing. But again, I probably am not the best judge when it comes to demon possessions." She picked up a pebble and bounced it across the lake's surface. "I mean, I could not even tell I was possessed by this demon! What does that say about me? Niles trained us to not fall for demonic possessions."

Locke let out a sigh, hearing the bitterness in her words. "I know, its been a decade or so since we last seen each other," A sober voice echoed from his lips, as if he talked with a dead friend. "Its been too long, we were just kids," Corvinna didn't have her glasses on, she didn't need it to know there was grief and rage within all of this. Locke still couldn't process that her friend lived. Several years hunting her down, to finally found her. If Not for Evelyn, Locke feared she might have heard about her death to the demon.

"We have a bit to catch up on, don't you think?" Locke said as she looked over ot her. Her eyes widen at the snap of her statement, yet she didn't respond in anger. Instead, she let Vayne shout back before quietly responding. "How do you know what hasn't cost me? You haven't asked me, have you?" Locke closed her eyes and lower her head, reaching up to grab the locket she held onto.

"Just because I look calm and have a smile on my face, doesn't mean I am. The smile just hides what is truly underneath; no one needs to know that truth except a few that I trust," Her eyes glanced over to Shauna and left no smile on her face to express her trust in Shauna still. "I don't think I'm rotting though. Yes, whatever this is in me that was placed upon me, can cause me pain; but its not evil. You know I can see the souls of others, and help grant them peace by taking their pain or their anger. Whatever emotion is being preyed upon by a demon, I can briefly absorb. And that emotion is blocked by the runes on my body so a demon can't prey off of it. Is that evil?" Locke offered a ton of questions to Vayne in this moment, not trying to force her own views on her but try to help her see it the way Vinna did.

How she missed her though. The sassy, the playfulness. Pushing and pulling with each other. She knew it would never be like that again, not after what they gone through. But she was HERE! Alive! Locke could touch her, smell her, feel her.

"That's a good thing, it means you have control once more, though… there is something different between you and this possession," the moment Vayne started to slam herself though Locke turned and reached for her hand.

"Shauna, listen to me. Niles failed to train us properly, he trained us to be tools, not people. Do you know what it means to be possessed? It means you are human, like everyone else. You feel, you love, you hurt, you have anger. That is not a weakness and it never will be, look at me," Locke moved her hand from Shauna's then turned her face to look at her so they held each others eyes. "To survive as long as you did, means you have a strong heart and a strong soul. Niles doesn't know anything, my mother doesn't know anything. You are so much more then you give yourself credit for and I will not let you forget it. I lived these last decade in your name. Everything I did was for you, because I thought you weren't here to do it," Locke spoke with gentle conviction before turning away.

Morgana could not help but look around wearily. Back when Demacia was young, her sister and she spent their free time battling many kinds of threats, encroaching upon the newly forming nation. Among them had been raiders and tribes men from the frosty lands of the Freljord, but also beasts like dragons and the first whispers of demons.

She had never anticipated that Demacia would become a breeding ground for demons in particular, but looking at the emotional state Demacia was in, it no longer surprised her. Her home nation was a hotbed of infections, when it came to emotions, and that lured demons faster than anything.

The little girl's excitement was touching. Morgana could not help but smile fondly down at Locke. If her presence helped to ease this poor hunter's fears and worries, then she would gladly stay here. Her lips trembled, and her eyes flashed in surprise as Corvinna traced her fingers across the chains. There was no thug or pull to it, no attempt to unravel them. Instead, Locke inspected the trapped wings with reverence and adoration.

When was the last time someone had looked at her like this? Most people, who Morgana allowed herself to be found by, came to her with guilt and grief heavy in their hearts in search of absolution. They did not look at her with reverence. They looked at her with fear, respect, and a desperate wish to be cleansed.

Locke had nothing of this about her. Instead, her emotions swirled like storm clouds around her. Dejection, disbelief and a self-esteem which had been choked down by the root. A truer outcast if Morgana had ever seen one. She listened to Corvinna open her heart to her. The words came pouring out of the little girl like water finally bursting through a dam. How long had she been holding all of that in?

Morgana knelt down on the ground. Her soles felt the damp grass. Her dark purple dress sprawled out around her legs, its hem getting wet at its fringes. The half-aspect placed a hand on Locke's shoulder. Morgana said, "Corvinna, I have always watched over the outcasts of Demacia's society. The downtrodden and the scorned. Occult people are outcasts themselves, but you are an outcast among the outcasts. I heard every prayer, and I felt the anguish you endured to meet an ideal so far out of reach for you. I do not need you to be the strongest or the bravest or the smartest. I did not come to you because you are a demon hunter. I came to you because you are a child walking a dangerous path, which you should not walk alone."

At the snapping of twigs, Locke whirled around, anticipating a threat. Morgana's shoulder wings went limp. She did her best to ignore the sensation as she stood up and followed Locke's gaze. A murder of crows had descended upon a spot a few feet up shore. Bouncing around, twigs broke underneath their feet. Two had found a particularly interesting stick and were now trying to obtain it for themselves, thugging the stick between each other. Morgana frowned at the murder. Almost as if the ravens could sense that they were being stared at, they stopped in their activity. One of them awkwardly let go of the stick. The one with the stick flew away, probably to build a nest. The stickless crow bounced its head up and down, uttering a soft thrill.

Morgana merely said: "Unfortunately, my sister has not deigned herself to visit Demacia in many generations. I hope it stays like that for, believe me, she will not like what she finds." As Locke corrected himself, the half-aspect added, "Corvinna, you do not have to insist on being a boy around me. You can do it, if it makes you more comfortable, but you don't need to do it for me. There is nothing wrong with calling yourself a girl around me."

"I am glad to hear you have someone who cares about you and whom you think so highly of", Morgana said, "In my years, I learned that the best way for people to reconcile their mistakes is by having at least one person stand by them. For most, that is the drive they need to do better." She gingerly thugged a strand of Locke's hair behind her ear. "And I assure you, I have never been less confused, young hunter."

As the woman sat down, Corvinna brushed away little spots and made sure her dress didn't get in the way. It was just a gesture of kindness, wanting her to be comfortable as they sat together. "I do not know what I've done to make my clan reject me. I try so hard with everything. I know I'm not the best, but, I really do try," Corvinna sighed, as she tucked her hands into her lap. "Talking to you made me feel better, as if… I knew I wasn't alone. I never needed you to fix me or…. forgive me. I just… didn't want to be alone," Her eyes glanced up to her and then allowed her head to leaned over and rest against Morgana's shoulder.

Her bottom lip quivered, trying not to cry. Yet no one except Shauna had ever been this tender to her, to be this safe for her. "There are… many bad people. I'm always taught that demons are the bad ones, but, I think people are worse," A quiet admittance as she took a breath. "I don't understand why, even now as I try my best, my mother…. my mater told me that when I die today, I better die fighting," Turning her head up and she shook it.

"Why does my mater not love me!? I try and I try and I try. Everything I do to please her, and its not enough," Her shoulders drooped again. "I'm glad I don't have to be a boy around you. Mater says I have to be one to carry the family honor and tradition. But, I'm a girl, I can feel it. Maybe not like Shauna, with the long hair and her fancy clothes, but… I like being a girl," Corvinna smiled brightly though as Morgana used her real name.

Everything hurt, and tears ran down Corvin's face. No, Corvinna! He immediately shut down the name her mother gave her, trying to remember what she believed inside. I'm a girl, I'm a girl! but, he had to be a boy. Had to be her son. Yes, she… he, needed to make her proud! His arm rubbed against his face, trying to push away the tears only to smear blood over her face and she sobbed silently even more. He had to keep moving. He didn't know which way was home, being dropped blindfolded and his wrist tied and he had to find a tool.

The ritual burned into his skin, each blade carved a curve, a line, a mark. All he could hear was his mother's whispers under her breath as she cut into him. "You better not make a sound, do not insult our family name. You are a man, and you will act like one. Hold your tongue, you better bite it off before you cry or scream," And under her… no, his silent breath he nodded and said 'yes mother'.

Now, all he had was himself, and the giant nail in his hand. It must have belonged to some traveling Merchant and dropped from a cart. It was a bit old and rusted, but still useful.

She ran through the woods, knowing the dangerous that lingered around every tree trunk and pool of water. Stay alert, Stay alive. Bring suspicion as a weapon and trust nothing. No one is a friend, everything is an enemy. Corvinna knew the blood would pull not just predators but demons from the woods. Her pain would call like a sweet platter of delicacies to the hunger of these creatures. Then there were the corrupted monsters, creatures turned by the darkness of the wyldwoods. And then, the predators, wolves and bears, snakes, natural creatures untouched by the darkness.

Each step cut into her feet, as she gritted her teeth. Don't cry, hunters don't cry. What did Niles saying. "Chin up boy, you won't be a hunter like Shauna if you keep joking around. One day your silliness will get you killed; faster then thorns piercing your feet," WHY DID NO ONE WANT HER? Boy. Son. Failure. Useless. Pathetic.

That anger lashed out as she killed a wolf she tangled with. She had to survive! Not for her mother, not for Niles, not for anyone else….

Well, she would survive for Shauna. She couldn't leave her alone. She didn't care what these hunters and occultist said; being a lone hunter would lead to death. Caring for someone could not be the end of the world. Shauna brought such light, such hope; the only one who called her a girl! who liked her as a girl. She would survive for her, she had to. No one else would, and she would not let her be alone.

Dropping down to the water's edge, Corvinna looked at her reflection. Blood streaked across her cheeks and nose, blood crusted all over her chest and shoulders. Her body shivered involuntarily, the pain burning down to her bones. She inspected the water, making sure it was no poisoned or cursed and started to splash it over her face, washing her hands. But a sudden sound caused her to jump up, grabbing her nail and growling.

"No, no, this is a trick!" Suspicion crept over Locke's eyes, staring at this winged woman. A demon must know she prayed to her often. Just talking to the winged protector, seeking a calm and hope to know she wasn't alone. Kayle was the one of justice, righteousness. Locke didn't think the white sister would feel the loneliness as people flocked to her like swans. But the Veiled Lady, people were silent of her. Perhaps, Morgana was just as lonely as this little girl forced into a world she didn't want to be in. A demon must notice, feeling the safety Corvinna felt around Morgana. "Lies… tricks…"

Yet, Corvinna stood there for a moment, staring at Morgana. Something shimmered, just barely around her form. She didn't feel like a demon, move like one. Her mother would condemn her immediately for even thinking she could have help. Corvinna should reject all help given to her; a hunter survives on their own. "Your… not a demon," Corvinna said, and looked confused at her own words. How did she know? She wasn't sure, but she could sense something, something not demonic.

Carefully the young occultist took a few steps forward, and reached out. "You aren't a lie, I don't…. your real?" Looking down, she noticed the poppy seeds. "These are used in herbal medicines and salves in my home," With such gentleness, Corvinna took them from her hand and made sure they were clean before chewing on them.

"Are you the real Winged Protector? Or, am I just… imagining this? Maybe a spirit that looks like her?" Corvinna asked, hoping to hear the truth. To many spoke lies; poisoning the ears of so many. Even this young hunter had to be careful not to let the words stain her soul; sometimes she wasn't successful as the pain made her hate herself.

The suspicion lay so heavily in the air that one might choke on it. Morgana could feel her heart plummet as Locke whirled around, fingers grasping the large silver nail as if she was only asking for the illusion to break and a monster to unleash hell upon her. Living near the Wyldwoods had bred the demon hunters into paranoid, suspicious people, just as suspicious and defensive as Demacians themselves were, yet their zealous nature sometimes felt like it succeeded the rigid mindset of the Demacian army.

Arguably, it was easy to dream of a Demacia which could allow mages among its midst in peace if you did not have to see the consequences of dark magic every single day. Morgana could almost forgive the zealous paranoia and the feverish defensiveness of the demon hunters. After all, their duties meant that they constantly fought with the result of the occult.

A demon hunter fought monsters that the Dauntless Vanguard may only encounter once a blue moon. Even the Dragonguard of Wrenwall fought dragons only every few months. Compared to that, the Locke family and Niles wandered into these cursed woods every night to limit the encroachment of the monsters and demons upon Demacia, at great cost to their own mental health and life.

Thus, as Locke spat her mistrust at her feet, backing away from her, trying to keep the distance between the two of them, Morgana merely raised her hands and spoke: "I promise you, young Corvinna, I am unarmed. I promise I am not trying to trick you, though, I do not fault you for fearing that, given where we are." Her expression softened in pity and empathy. How young was Locke? Fifteen? Sixteen? She certainly did not look like an adult. And yet the little boy, the little girl was already deeply rattled by her mistrust. How quickly paranoia could take root.

They kept staring at each other. Neither dared to move. Morgana could feel Locke stare at her, below that human face. Her wings flexed against her chains. She stayed silent as the boy-girl stared into the depths of her soul; something the demon hunters had trained themselves to do. What did Locke see? A soul carrying the trauma and sorrow of a life lived for centuries? The lingering power of an Aspect, which could destroy just as much as it could build up?

Morgana nodded patiently as Locke slowly connected the dots. "No", she said reassuringly, "I am no demon. I am also very much real." Relief flooded her as Corvinna took the poppy seeds and ate them, the physical pain finally ebbing away. Even though, emotionally, the young hunter was still very much a raw wound. "And, yes, I am the Winged Protector. Or, well, one of them. My sister, Kayle, has not been in Demacia for generations. I am no spirit, young Locke. People back then knew me as Morgana. I have been keeping tabs on you ever since I saw hints of this ritual happening."

@viioletvale cont. from here.

Corvinna never wanted to question such things, but how heavily it rained upon her; suspicion lingered now. Why could people just not show the truth; was it so hard? But then again, Corvinna hid too. Did she lie too? She didn't want to, but her mother forced it upon her. Day in and day out, she had to be he. A boy, a man, a son. All she wanted was to be herself but her mother would not allow it.

And she couldn't find the will to say no.

"At night, the demons are stronger, and they can feel what I feel. I'm scared, and angry, and… alone," Locke spoke honestly, knowing she could easily be targeted right now. Her emotions ran on high, which did not help with the pain. Bright blue eyes flicked down to look at Morgana's wing, and a child-like innocence suddenly beamed in her eyes. "Your really her!!" That fear and panic faded and instead there was a beam of excitement. "You are her! I mean, I knew you had to be real, I would talk to you so many nights when my mother wouldn't hear me. But, you are really here, with me!"

She should have asked first, but after eating the berries, Locke didn't think and just reached over to brush her hands down her wing. Gentleness touches the chains that restrained them, yet Corvinna could only stare in admiration and amazing. But then she stopped and turned her head back. "On me? Why me? There, there are others far better then me. Like, Like Neela, she has the sharpest arrow, though Shauna is better. Or, or Rolan, he is the strongest. I'm… I can't even hit a target, and I'm… no one," It confused Corvinna.

It didn't help that her mother constantly badgered her, degrading her in the worse ways cause she always did things wrong. Whenever she succeeded, it wasn't the right way, or the right counter. If Locke showed any kind of empathy, it was shut down cause demon hunters should feel nothing. Niles always told her off too, because she would get upset and he told her to stop acting that way. Or telling him to be more like Shauna.

"I know I talk to you, but, I don't think I'm worthy enough to be chosen to be visited," Her voice stopped at the sound of a crack, and she grabbed her nail and twisted around, only to see a couple of ravens on the ground, bouncing around and causing a few twigs to snap. Corvinna took a breath and turned around and set the weapon back down. "I never talked with your sister. She never seemed like the one who would want to talk to a little gi….. little boy like me," He didn't have strength, or muscles, didn't have a high intelligence to understand books quickly, and it took him forever to figure out how to use weapons.

"Shauna is the only one who actually…. wanted me. I, I feel you must be confused, I'm not anyone special. Even Shauna is better then me," There was no judgement in those words. In fact, Corvinna sounded proud, at least knowing that she should be able to survive.

the  first  thing  that  hit  caitlyn  was  the  smell.

alcohol  had  a  specific  odour  that  wafted  even  into  the  hallway  and  hit  her  right  as  she  opened  the  door.  caitlyn  braced  herself — both  externally  by  squaring  her  shoulders  and  exhaling,  and  internally  by  preparing  to  go  into  a  trouble-solving  mode — and  stepped  into  their  home.

there  she  found  vi,  in  the  living  room,  and  the  rest  of  her  senses  came  into  play  too.

first,  sight.  vi  laid  sprawled  there,  half  on  the  carpet  and  half  on  the  couch.  no  glasses;  she  didn't  bother  with  these.  only  bottles,  clear,  and  empty,  and  sparkling  almost  prettily  in  the  sunlight  coming  from  the  half-curtained  window.

second,  sound.  caitlyn  could  hear  vi  breathe,  which  was  good.  as  she  walked  closer,  her  left  shoe  collided  with  one  of  the  empty  bottles,  sending  it  rolling  across  the  carpet.  luckily  it  didn't  break.  getting  the  broken  glass  out  of  the  carpet  would  have  been  a  nightmare.

third,  touch.  she  crouched  down  and  slid  her  hand  against  vi's  cheek,  shaking  her  face,  tapping  it  with  her  finger  and  later  her  whole  palm.  ❝vi?  vi . . . damn  it.❞

fourth,  smell  again  with  vi  being  so  close,  so  thick  that  she  could  almost  taste  it  on  her  tongue.  the  stench  of  alcohol  clinged  not  only  to  vi's  mouth  but  to  her  whole  body.  ❝come  on,❞  caitlyn  said  more  to  herself  that  to  the  unconscious  woman  on  the  floor.  she  pulled  vi  into  a  sitting  positon  and  grabbed  her  by  the  armpits  before  dragging  her  limp  body  to  the  bathroom,  kicking  away  any  empty  bottles  that  got  in  her  way  with  more  rigour  than  she  should.

It only took one simple thing to break Vi's grip on herself. She had been busy helping Caitlyn, establishing a life in Piltover. There were still a lot to deal with; the glares and insults still. And on the opposite fangirls or excitable children about the 'heroes of the war'. She didn't win…. no one won.

No one wins in war.

What made her snap finally, after months of trying to stay sober, was a flash of blue. The laughter echoing and Vi chased her. "Jinx!" It had to be, it …. but when she stopped, she realized it was a daughter's little girl. Her blue hair neatly braided, laughing and holding up a bunny she just got from her dad. Vi stumbled backwards, feeling her throat choke up.

Everything else passed in a blur. She had been walking home, and then…. somehow was in the bar in Piltover. Drink after drink, before realizing how fucked she was. If it just make the pain hurt a little less, if it just numb her mind from watching her family fall from her hands… again.

Weak legs carried her back to the manor, and dropped on the couch. "Can't… sleep with cuptake like dis," She hiccuped and then started to sobbed silently. Each bottle falling down her gullet until she passed out.

It was the cold splash of water that made her scream. "GET BACK!!!" She shouted, stumbling and throwing a fist into the empty air. Briefly thinking it was someone trying to get her ready for another fit in the pit. The fist flew through the air and she landed on the ground. Knees cracked as her fist hit the ground and her mind spun from a heavy hangover. Vi's tail fizzed out, thick red fur twitching to show her aggravation.

Her eyes struggled to focus, but noticed the marble bathroom floor as her fingers brushed over it. Then turning her head til she spotted Caitlyn. "Couldn't wake me up in a better fashion," Vi grumbled, as she shook her head, and stood up. A bad idea, as she groaned and pressed her palm against her skull. Damn, she wanted to go back to sleep. Bury herself into a bed, cover her head, and sleep the rest of it off. She brushed her hand over her face, wiping away the droplets of water, her hair soaked as she dropped down on a bench. Fingers brushed through her red hair, combing it back as she proceed to rub at her temples.

"Need another nap," She mumbled more to herself then for anyone's benefit.